#‘‘I got something been living rent free’’ PLEASE
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So the lion fell in love with the lamb...
Dark Tillow, anyone?
This moodboard is inspired by a fic idea that lives rent free inside my own head. If anyone has played Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Chaos Bleeds, then you'll know that in the First's Dimension that Willow faces a vampire version of Tara. Remembering that game, it got me thinking about how that world's Willow and Tara would've been. Would it have been similar to what we see in Dopplegangland? That because Buffy never went to Sunnydale, Willow and Xander were at the mercy of the Master? Did Willow, at some point, come across a human Tara and at first, keeps her as a pet? But over time, it turns into something more...
I like to think that everyone around her, even including vampire!Willow, would see Tara as something delicate and defenseless but then, as seen in the moodboard, when vampire!Willow gets captured, we see this strong and protective side to Tara.
I imagine, at some point, vampire!Willow would have turned Tara, perhaps as a sign of trust and wanting to be with that person forever? We gotta have a bit of sweetness, even within this dark world, when it comes to Willow and Tara.
There might be a follow up moodboard to this one, so please let me know if you'd like to see it! <3
#tillow#tara and willow#willow x tara#willow rosenberg#tara maclay#vampire willow#btvsedit#btvs moodboard
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Every time Madam E used slang I felt it inflict actual psychic damage on me
#‘‘I got something been living rent free’’ PLEASE#tmagp#tmagp spoilers#the mangus protocol#madam electrum#madam e
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miscellany (again),, tags in the last image by @pyrotechnicarus
#adamandi#vincent aurelius lin#quincy cynthius martin#ambrose wellington bassford#portia elizabeth harper#beatrix valeria campbell#bit of nonsense bit of sillies (ohhh she thinks she's so funny huh.. anyways the brainrot. out out out)#please don't ask me about them take them at face value laugh and move on or smth i keep worrying i've read them Wrong#these have been living in my head rent free for a week and i'm now evicting them politely#anyway i drew all these as scribbles in my sketchbook in-between exam week and today i wanted them out of my head. so digital it is#i've spent two hours on this haha as a. would you even guess. a break from the beatrix thingy i've been planning because that one's rendery#quiet little notes on this... um.. i have started drawing quincy (idk how!!!)#yknow after the last ambrose literal study. i'm kind of mad about the fact that doing an unintentional study Worked???#like. he's the ONE character i have a grasp of how to draw. everyone else is 'randomly whack until you get the vibes and vague structural#integrity'. can we talk about shape language real quick though because ambrose is oval beatrix is circle quincy is rectangle#vincent is square and portia is triangle. that's how it is in my head.#texture wise. vincent is charcoal and graphite. ambrose is traditional painting blended. beatrix is crosshatching and ink.#quincy is like... marker? and watercolour. portia is digital and cell shading. i can't explain any of the correlations they just Are#for the. oddly detailed quincent i Wasn't intending to draw i had to pull up the musical and re-reference them. could draw one then not the#other?? so i struggled with quincy until i Got them and then i couldn't for the life of me get vincent right.... is it something about like#drawing one character at a time? like there's only room in my mind to understand one set of proportions at any given moment???#a fun little fact was just that i began photo refs as always from hahnji jang's page (which has been? saved in my search autofill now??) an#i didn't even have to get a specific image of quincy being in angst. but for smiling vincent i had to purposefully find oh ms reporter#well! consider this yet another part in the trying to figure out how everyone looks like/vibes as/gets drawn as Characters#a secret little code i keep for the stuff i make now is that i need to have something about the drawn medium that makes it unique to itself#as like opposed to a gif or screenshot or photoedit. it has to have extra meaning. and this appears two ways: one is through Implications i#the more Finished stuff. (aka poster series?) and the other one is by engaging in Ideas (generally posts. or memes/incorrect quotes/etc.)#had a really really interesting convo with a friend irl about fanart and fandoms. they were really active for genshin and stuff and so the#experiences between large and small fandoms were fascinating to compare.. i think i prefer the .. intimacy(?) of just doing what i obsess#over instead of looking for the statistics and clout and notes now. the art i make feels more meaningful and intentional that way.
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omg please write a piece about reader getting fucked by a ghost i neeeeed it
Hey, anon! Fear not, I shall deliver. I wasn't sure whether you wanted afab or amab, so I went with the usual afab. I'm happy to rewrite it into amab, if anyone wants it!(^ω^)
Edit: Here is the amab version!
Feel free to send me asks and requests or little imagines, I'm always happy to expand upon it, it gets the creative juices flowing a little. ^-^
NSFW, Minors DNI, I can see you.
TW: dub-con
Anyway, enough talk. Here's Reader getting not-so-respectfully railed by a ghost:
When your grandma left you a house after she passed, you assumed your troubles would finally be over, and for a while, they were. When you moved in, things were amazing. You didn't have to worry about rent anymore, and the utilities were surprisingly cheap. It's like you hit the jackpot, finally able to live with a few less worries.
Obviously, when you weren't working or hanging out with the odd friend that came over, you spent your time at home, keeping yourself occupied, mostly by either watching something, playing something, or masturbating out of boredom.
Things continued like that for a while, until you found a rather cryptic note from your late grandma that explained in unnecessary detail how there was a ghost living in the house. She strictly referred to the ghost as "him" and mentioned he was fairly friendly, unless provoked, and even then he would only play pranks on you.
Being the rational person that you are, you chalked it up to grandma being senile and that she was just keeping herself entertained since she lived in the house all alone. It would have been fine if that's where it stopped.
One night, your old friend came over, and you did your usual routine of watching something, and then halfway through, you ended up fucking. That's where it really all began.
The next morning, things were on the ground, not like someone had ransacked the place, but it was noticeable enough, though of course you thought it must've been just your old friend who had knocked some stuff over while leaving in a hurry. When you went to bend over to pick some things up, you could feel something grabbing your ass, and without hesitation, you turned around, only to be faced with nothing. Maybe you were going crazy, you thought; it wasn't an awfully strong grip, so maybe it was something your body did.
This excuse became increasingly less effective as time went on. You felt hands everywhere and at the worst times. Caressing your arms and legs, tracing your stomach and back. Eventually it got to the point where you could feel a hand slipping into your pants, playing with your clit. Of course, you were scared at first. Something was clearly there, and it reminded you of the letter your grandma left you.
You began shouting at the ghost. Telling it to stop fucking around and leave you alone. However, the ghost didn't really care; you broke his one rule that he had agreed on with your grandma, and even if you didn't know, he was going to punish you. How dare you bring another man into his house and have the audacity to fuck him?
His touching escalated the more you allowed him. Eventually you noticed a mouth and a wet tongue licking your neck, tracing down to your breasts. It seemed strange, considering you were usually clothed when this happened, yet it felt like it was touching your skin directly. The licking felt nothing like what your old friend would do, although in truth the sex with him wasn't all that good and really just a way to get fucked every once in a while.
Before you knew it, multiple hands were all over you, joined by at least three tongues licking you. This made no sense; you wondered if there were multiple ghosts. It became increasingly difficult to even find the logic in this when you were constantly being groped and licked. One tongue had found its permanent place on your sensitive nub, flicking and sucking it with every move you made; one was carelessly sucking on one of your nipples, alternating with one hand that usually played with the other one. The third mouth seemed to like making out with you, its tongue constantly shoved in your mouth, wrestling yours.
Despite feeling all these ministrations as if they were real, when you looked at your reflection, there was nothing there. Your mouth was gaping, but nothing was in it; your panties were soaked beyond belief most of the time, yet nothing seemed to be there. But truly, the worst part about it all was that it wouldn't let you finish. Whenever you were just about to cum, the mouth disappeared before continuing its torture. It took about two days before you couldn't take it anymore, pleading with the ghost to let you cum. It didn't listen, though it did use more hands to restrict you when you went to touch yourself before shoving something inside of you.
It wasn't much of a sensation, and you felt it curl, so you naturally assumed it was the finger of another hand. “Please,” you began whimpering every other minute, your tone getting more needy with every ruined orgasm that he put you through as minutes began to feel like hours.
“I'll do anything,” you finally managed to choke out through tears as he played with your sodden pussy for what you could only register as an eternity again, bent over the kitchen counter, legs held apart, wrists gripped tightly by the ghost. For a moment, there was nothing but stillness; all the mouths stopped what they were doing, and most of the hands disappeared too, except the ones keeping you in place.
“Anything?” A shiver ran down your spine as you heard the noise that you assumed to be the ghost's voice. It sounded distant and more like the wind howling than a human voice, yet you knew immediately who it was. You nodded, the tears running down your face falling onto the kitchen counter, your twitching cunt trying to feel any sort of stimulation now that the mouths and hands were gone.
“Yes, anything.” The words came out before you could even attempt to stop them, accompanied by a howling sound, which made you wonder whether it was meant to be a laugh or not.
Another few moments passed before a loud noise forced itself out of your mouth at the sensation of something stretching you open. It was long and thick, covered in strange bumps, providing nothing but the most torturous pleasure as it thrust into your hungry cunt at a punishing pace.
Despite your mind still questioning whether this was okay and logical, your body was writhing against the kitchen counter, hands still held still by him, your legs forced apart as he fucked you from behind. No matter how much you attempted to stop it from happening, desperate, high-pitched mewling sounds escaped your lips at a rapid rate as you felt another orgasm approach, hoping this would be the one to finally let you cum after two days of torture.
“What a willing little slut,” the ghost taunted with his howling voice, making him sound distant yet all around you at once. The insults made you mewl louder; something about being used like this by a ghost made your pussy clench harder.
In a small moment of defiance, you glanced back at what might be behind you, but just as expected, there was nothing. Despite your pussy being stretched to an almost painful level, gaping around air, no figure was there to account for it.
Just as your orgasm threatened to spill over, something was shoved into your mouth, making your jaw hurt, before it found its way down your throat, drowning out your mewls and desperate groans.
“Be quiet, whore. I'm not done with you yet.” With those words, your eyes fluttered closed as you let this torture continue for another minute or two, pussy and throat both stuffed full with invisible cocks, bigger than any human's you've ever had. The thought alone was enough to trigger your orgasm, finally sending you over that sweet edge with a loud groan that only came out as a hum. Your body went limp from the impact, and you saw stars in front of your eyes, the ghost holding you up by your wrists as if it were nothing.
Without a word or even a moment to spare, he kept slamming into you, the bumps rubbing against your insides, making you feel like you were stuck in a never-ending orgasm for a moment before it did finally subside, though you could feel the cocks twitch, their movements becoming more erratic and aggressive. You tried to say something, but your throat was simply too stuffed to make any worthwhile noise.
Suddenly, you felt a hot sensation in both of your holes, almost making you gag and cry in pain, as the sheer amount of ectoplasmic seed forced its way into your womb and down your throat, spilling back into your mouth, even running down your chin. Before you could fully register what happened, you were dropped, the ghost probably leaving you to deal with the aftermath. As you lay there, the sheer amount of cum almost formed a small puddle on the ground, your fucked-out pussy leaking more as you desperately tried to swallow the remnants in your mouth.
#ghost x reader#ghost smut#ghost fucker#monsterfucker#monster smut#monster fuqqer#monster x human#monster fucker#monster lover#monster kink#teratophillia#terato#x reader smut#reader smut#dub con#exophelia#afab reader#ghost imagine#smut#gender neutral reader#x reader#reader insert#reader insert smut
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LoungeSinger!Reader??? Can you tell us a little bit about that,please🥺🥺🥺?
LoungeSinger!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family Member (Romantic)
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: I had this in my head rent free for all of November after listening to Hozier. More specifically, Too Sweet and Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene. This has so many different directions it could go in and I'm having a hard time picking one.
Warnings: GN!Reader, incarceration, possible manipulation
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
You had gotten it into your head that you could handle it. That you didn't need that small town mindset. And, that you were going to do something about it.
Now, moving to one of the most dangerous cities in the country to sing at some smokey bar might not have been the brightest of all your ideas. But, fuck the light, it hurts your eyes anyway.
You knew you got lucky when you found some decent paying bar that hired your naive ass. You knew you were good when you sang and made people fall in love with you. You didn't know how fucked you where when you made the wrong people fall in love with more than just your voice.
It had started innocently enough. No one in Gotham would blame you for falling for it. Not even your judgmental family back home would've blamed your for it. The devil is a charmer after all, and he looks like an angel as well. Sure, you were a seductive thing. But, you bit that apple not realizing it was a pomegranate in disguise.
The Bat Family were all about helping people from what you understood. You hadn't exactly expected to run into them. Not with how cautious you tended to be. Just because you were brave enough to move to Gotham of your own accord doesn't mean you were stupid enough not to take precautions. Avoiding dark alleyways. Carrying pepper spray. Taking a taxi even if it was only for two blocks.
But, they came to you. More specifically the bar you worked at. Asking questions from the busboy first. Then the Bartender. Then the waitress. Then you, the singer.
You were fully prepared to help them with whatever it was they were investigating. Wanting to do your part to help. However, you may have been beguiled by their first question.
"What's someone as pretty and as talented as you doing in a city like this?"
Of course, even with your flushing cheeks, you had figured that they were just being charming for kicks. That it was just in their nature and that they weren't really as captivated by you as they had sounded.
Still, they threw in flirty lines every now and then when they had asked you questions about the area. Things you had seen. Things you had heard. Where you lived.
Simple, investigative things.
You hadn't expected it to have gone on for multiple days though. Night after night, week after week of them coming back to talk.
When you had asked around your bar, they hadn't done that for anyone else. And, the people you did mention it to told you to keep it hushed with a cheeky grin and a knowing gleam in their eyes at the sight of our blush. You didn't need everyone in Gotham knowing you were flirting with one of its vigilantes.
It continues on like that for weeks, then months. Flirting and heated rooftop rendezvouses.
But, not years.
Because it suddenly comes to a bone rattling stop when the very bar you work at is shut down by the Gotham City Police and everyone is arrested. Including you. All
Everyone you know and trust, on the inside of those cells with you.
You'd contact your masked lover, but you don't know how. And, you don't want to. Not when you hear the officers talking about how they got all the information about your boss apparently laundering money for some local small time gang. Not when you hear their alias being mentioned.
No one blames you for what happened, thankfully. In fact, you received a substantial amount of pity for your situation. Poor thing. Manipulated and used and tossed aside.
Or, were you?
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: Did we do something to have them throw us in there? Did they think we were about to leave Gotham? Was is all a big misunderstanding? Is the GCPD just corrupt? Are they going to bail us out? Who is our masked lover? SO MANY POSSIBILITIES!
#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#yandere dc#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#loungesinger!reader#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x reader#tim drake x reader#damian wayne x reader#yandere batboys#yandere batboy#yandere jason todd#bruce wayne x reader#yandere batman#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake#yandere damian wayne#yandere jason todd x reader#yandere dick grayson x reader#yandere tim drake x reader#yandere damian x reader#answered asks#anon ask
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Hi!
Can I request a fic where the reader starts realizing they have feelings for Sylus and gets so nervous around him that they can’t resonate anymore?
And Sylus thinks that the reader is scared/disgusted by him again so the reader is forced to confess their feelings to not create a bigger misunderstanding
Thanks!
- 🌻
The moment I got this request I was like HELLO— sunflower anon, you just get me 😌 Anyway! Am back from my break and I hope everyone’s ready for some Vulnerable Sylus™️, because I have got him hot to go!!!
A Gentle Touch
Sylus x Reader 🩸
Summary: You really can’t let Sylus into your head this time— he’s living there rent-free already.
Genre: Angst + Fluff (& some Luke and Kieran shenanigans because they were not feeling the angst)
Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, injury detail, mentions of possible trauma, humour, some intimacy at the end 😘, Luke and Kieran are having the time of their lives
| Word count: 3.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
If you asked, Sylus would tell you.
You catch glimpses: dark, sharp flickers of something monstrous, maybe even infernal. Blood, everywhere— thick in your mouth and your nose. All over your hands. You feel it, too: a yearning, so intense, and you couldn’t say whom it belongs to. Then there’s death. Searing white. Bottomless black. In the middle of all of it— crimson eyes like dying stars.
Every time you resonate, it envelops you, is laid out bare before you: a nightmare you’re caught in the centre of but forced to watch from outside. An other, a spectator. It’s a show, just for you, but it isn’t quite ready yet; someone’s still rehearsing their lines.
If you asked, Sylus would let you see it. It’s a power you have over him, a constant, self-sacrificial: you want it? It’s yours. So you don’t ask. You never ask. Like words mumbled in a haze of wine or sleep, you let him hold onto it. His hands are open, yes, but you don’t have to take.
Besides, you have your own, world-changing little secret, and he’s going to see it too.
He’s slumped in front of you, blood sheeting down from two bullet wounds just below his shoulder. He catches his breath— one, two— before he peeks over this desk you’ve overturned for cover. You should be peeking over as well: should be counting your enemies, scouting your next move.
Instead, you’re looking at him and holding back. One minute ago you had no idea where he was, how he was, and it’d been eating away at you from the moment you got separated. Now he’s with you— he found you— and the relief is desperate, gushing; it has to escape somehow. It drips: forbidden daydreams, one after the other, like…
How you want to hold his face and urge him to speak so you can just hear his voice.
How you want to press a hand to his heart and feel the beat of it beneath your palm.
How you want to kiss him, want to taste the blood on his split lip, because this is your story, isn’t it? Messy. Violent. Defiant.
He looks at you, that same blood carving a thin line through the pale of his chin. It drops down onto his silk shirt. “What are you thinking about, kitten?” he grins. His best guess: “This is a fine mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, hmm?”
It’s a fine mess he got you into. “Yeah.” You make yourself look away from him, glancing over the desk to assess how much worse the situation is getting. The answer? Significantly.
Sylus chuckles, drawing your eyes back as he reloads his gun. “Don’t say I never treat you to anything, sweetie.” He fires a few rounds towards the encroaching danger.
Voices go up across the room. Gunshots ring out, louder. Sylus slinks back down, wincing, holding his shoulder, and his fingers turn red. He deftly undoes the first few buttons on his shirt, peeling it back so he can examine his wounds. His jaw clenches; the punctures aren’t closing over fast enough. It’s too much blood, too quick, and he’ll—
He catches you staring. There’s a sheepish sincerity in the way he smiles, as honest and vulnerable as the holes in his shoulder. He holds out his hand. “Time for an energy storm, don’t you think?”
“No,” you snap. “Save your energy. We might need it later.”
“Oh?” An eyebrow perks up in interest, and it’s just like him to spot a double entendre in the midst of all this chaos.
But you’re staring at his chest through his open shirt and you’re such a hypocrite. “Things might get worse,” you explain.
“Worse?” he repeats as bullets fly over your heads, striking the wall across from you and scattering plaster over the floor. He watches it crumble. “Paint me a picture, kitten— what would worse look like?”
Even Rafayel might struggle with that particular creative prompt.
“Come on,” Sylus insists, using the excuse of your silence to push his hand closer to you. “Now’s not the time to play coy.”
“Sylus, I really don’t—”
He grasps your hand, his fingers locking with yours and squeezing tight. Your heart jumps at the touch. It strangles the protests in your throat and stays there, strung up by anticipation and dread.
You’re feeling so much that it takes you too long to realise nothing is happening.
Sylus’s eyes are fixed on your connected palms. He’s squinting, concentrating, and when that doesn’t work— when your hand is paling in the vice of his— he loosens his grip, his thumb feathering over yours as he mumbles a quick: “forgive me.”
He doesn’t let you go. You can still feel him, all of him, imploring to just let him in.
You don’t, and his eyes meet yours, for a moment— like another bullet has bitten through his flesh. Your mouth drops in fake surprise; you’re always so innocent when you pull a trigger on him.
This time, there’s no wound you can push your hands against in a guilty effort to staunch the bleeding. You have to apologise. Have to stitch it up with every word you’ve been guarding, saving, and it isn’t supposed to be like this. “Sylus, it’s not what you think. I—”
Something metal clatters across the floor behind you, bounces like a failing, stuttering heartbeat, then explodes.
…
“Good news, boss! We figured it out!”
Sylus groans, looking up from a report he’s not really been reading as two figures crash into his room. Not good, he thinks, as Kieran flings himself into the nearest armchair. Whatever this is, it’s not good. Luke settles on its arm.
With a sigh, Sylus removes his reading glasses. They stay, hooked on a finger, as he pushes his hair back like he can feel a headache coming on. His eyes flutter closed, and when they open, the twins are both leaning forward, bristling with excitement.
“Ask us,” Luke whispers in a way that makes Sylus think he might not realise he’s speaking out loud.
Another sigh. “What did you figure out?”
Kieran whips out a tired-looking notepad from behind his back. He clears his throat— “ahem!”— then starts to read: “Reasons why Miss Hunter was not able to resonate with you. Number one...”
“How did you find out about—”
“Sshhhh,” Kieran interrupts, putting a finger to where his lips should be. Sylus’s eyes widen in indignation, and Luke comes to his twin’s rescue, silently indicating Mephisto with a few tips of his head. The crow shrinks down on his perch.
“Number one,” Kieran repeats, matter-of-factly. “Your height.”
“My… height?”
Luke nods solemnly as Kieran continues: “humanityandconquer.com/power-dynamics describes tallness as a ‘natural advantage when trying to dominate a smaller individual.’ You are very tall. Try crouching when you speak to Miss Hunter.” He glances over the top of his notepad. “If you approach her at her level, she’ll know you mean no—”
“Nope. Next,” Sylus dismisses, waving his hand in a fast-forward motion. That headache is coming on.
“Reason two,” Kieran acquiesces, gaze falling, “your eyes.”
“Oh, for gods’ sake—”
“They’re red,” the twin pushes on, “and red means danger. In fiction, red eyes are symony—” he stops, spells it out— “synonymous with the supernatural. Vampires especially. Plus, lots of bad stuff is red.” He’s going off-script. “Blood. Fire. Sunburns.”
“Sunburns are pink,” Luke muses.
“No, like, bad sunburns, y’know?”
“Oh right, yeah.” There’s a shrug of agreement.
Sylus’s will to live is hanging by a thread, and they really don’t have a care in the world, do they? It must be nice. “Thank you,” he murmurs, “for your little investigation. If that’s all, I would—”
“Reason three!” Luke chirps, wiggling the same number of fingers, and Sylus’s head lolls back against the sofa.
“Miss Hunter is struggling to separate this version of you from your first impression,” Kieran says.
Sylus looks up. “What?”
Luke is rubbing his hands together eagerly, like they’ve finally gotten to the good stuff. “Well, you remember how you and Miss Hunter met,” his twin explains.
Words won’t do it justice, apparently, because the man begins to act it out. He reaches to grip Luke by the throat and Luke pretends to choke, fingers clawing at the grasp. Then Kieran stands up— throws Luke down into the chair and pins him there with his foot before snatching up his hand.
“See what I mean?” Kieran asks over his shoulder. “I mean, it must have been pretty traumatic. You kinda tore her away from everything she knew. Forced her to use her power, et cetera, et cetera.”
Sylus has gone quiet. He’s vaguely aware that the twins are moving, saying more, but he can’t hear it. He feels sick. Then he feels something different: someone poking at his arm. A hand is waved in front of his face, but he doesn’t react.
“Oh, we so got it,” Luke whispers conspiratorially behind him.
“Hell yeah we did!” Kieran whispers back.
There’s the sound of them high-fiving, and it spurs Sylus into action. He’s up out of his seat, out of their shadows, and then the door as well— long before they can stop him. He needs to breathe. He needs the cold night air and the quiet, and his strides drive him towards it, but not fast enough.
He’s about to use his Evol. To let himself evaporate so he can be whole again somewhere else, somewhere easier, but then he stops. He’s by an open door, glancing in at a decadent living room, where you’re sprawled over a black leather couch. This isn’t easier. This hurts, and it hurts more as he forces himself to close the distance between you.
You’re still asleep. You’ve been unconscious ever since that grenade went off, and it’s for the best, really; getting out of that place was… messy. Sylus’s shoulder still aches, the blood on his shirt now crusty and dark. Some of it’s his. Some of it’s yours.
He’s not sure why he’s still wearing it.
The twins did a pretty good job of patching you up, but— looking over you— he would have done better. It was his role, after all. His duty to you, or maybe just a reason to get close to you. He couldn’t do it today. Couldn’t touch you, no matter how noble the intention. And a little part of him was glad for the excuse; his hands always shake.
A blanket is half on your legs, half on the floor, and Sylus stoops to collect the edge of it. He draws it over your shoulder, adjusting it around your arms— at rest by your face. He’s close, now, and he…
He can’t help himself. When has he ever been able to help himself? He lifts his hand slowly; he wants to kiss you. Even though your blood is still drying on his shirt and it’s all his fault.
…
Someone’s hand is on your face.
The touch draws you back into consciousness, tender, careful, then suddenly sharp. “Ah,” you hiss. “Sylus?” Always first on your mind and your lips.
“Not even close,” quips the shadow above you.
“Kieran?”
“Bingo.”
You use your hand to block some of the room’s light as you open your eyes— a birdlike silhouette taking shape through the gaps in your fingers. “Where’s Sylus?” you ask, teeth clenching as the twin applies a thin strip of surgical tape to a cut on your cheek. “Is he ok?”
“Sheesh, relax. He’s fine,” Kieran tuts, then seems to reconsider, “well…”
“He’s brooding,” chimes a voice from behind you. “Out on the balcony.” Luke.
You rub at your eyes, still drowsy with sleep. “Why’s he brooding? What did you do?”
“Told him he traumatised you,” they speak in unison.
“What?! Why would you say something like that?”
“Because it’s true,” Kieran shrugs. “That’s why you and boss couldn’t, you know…” He twinkles his fingers.
Resonate? Ugh. You slide your feet onto the floor, sitting up straight for a solid second before you bury your face in your hands, omitting a few, pained whines. This is such a mess, and it only got worse while you were asleep. First that stupid grenade, now the twins.
A hand pats at your back. “There, there,” Luke soothes.
You turn to glare at him. His hand retreats.
Forget it; you have to find Sylus.
…
You step out onto the balcony, head full of apologies you’ve had all of a minute to prepare, and it isn’t enough. It felt fitting, in the middle of a shootout— everything was allowed to be frantic and from the heart. Here it’s calm, and if you ruin something— break anything— it’s going to be obvious. There’s no other violence to blame.
Sylus must hear you join him, but he doesn’t turn. He’s leant forwards against the rail, one arm folded upon it, the other outstretched: sporting a glass of liquor that hangs from the tips of his fingers and that he swirls gently, his gaze far away.
The twins really weren’t kidding.
“Hey,” you greet, and it’s sort of pathetic, but you don’t know what else to say.
“Hey,” Sylus returns, “are you—” he looks back at you over his shoulder— “are you alright?”
“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “I mean, the twins are giving me a headache, but that’s, like, standard.”
He smiles back: a courtesy. You’ve seen him grin through almost every type of pain imaginable, but this one is new. Think about what Luke and Kieran said. What he must be thinking. “Sylus, I—”
“You don’t have to explain,” he stops you, turning his body towards you. “Honestly, I’d… rather you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Why?” he chuckles, masking a deeper hurt as he lifts his glass to his lips. “You’re really going to make me say it?”
You are; you hold his gaze as he takes a deliberately slow sip of his drink. He smirks, surrenders at once and admits: “I’m really not that strong, sweetie. That’s why.”
“What if I want to explain?”
The smirk falters, and his eyes make their own, sad, silent confession. If you want to explain? He’ll let you. He’ll stand here, listening patiently while you call him a thing of nightmares. While you break him, bit by tortuous bit, by reminding him just how frightening he is.
He turns back to the view, shrugs, but none of the tension leaves his shoulders. “Go on, then.”
“Sylus?”
“Mmm?”
“You don’t scare me, you know.”
His hand tightens around his glass. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Pity me,” he grimaces. “I don’t need it. I know what I am. I’d just… forgotten what I was to you.”
Your captor. Your monster. Except that was a lifetime ago and he’s been so many more things to you since then. Tell him. “Sylus…”
“I felt it,” he snaps, because your voice is still so reluctant, and he’s going to save you the trouble. “When we tried to resonate, I felt it— your fear— just as deep as it used to be. I heard that same voice in your head, the one saying you wouldn’t let me in, couldn’t let me in, so don’t tell me I don’t scare you, sweetie.” The term of endearment tastes sour, you can tell. “I know how you feel. I know—”
“I like you, Sylus.”
“…What?”
You couldn’t take it anymore. “I like you,” you say again, and your heart is beating too quickly for eloquence, so you just have simplicity. “You don’t scare me at all, Sy. I care about you. A lot.”
Sylus stares at you, his eyes wide. There’s no confidence. No smile or drawn-out breath of relief. He sets his glass aside on the railing, gaze leaving yours for a moment, and you get the feeling he needs that moment as much as he needed the drink itself.
Then he looks at you again. Asks in a way that makes you ache: “do you mean it?”
Look at him. Your throat stings. “Of course I mean it.”
“Say it again.”
“I mean it, Sylus. I care about—”
His lips are on yours and the rest of your words are lost in his mouth. You, you say with the way you kiss him back, soft and slow, like you’re relishing something that might slip away. You, you insist— your hand finding his face, his hair, as he kisses you deeper, and you, you, you, when he doesn’t stop.
“Is this alright?” he murmurs, his fingers around your chin and his thumb tugging at your bottom lip.
“Mmm,” you confirm, equally breathless.
He laughs as he withdraws a little, still caressing your face like you’re something of a dream. “You’re not making this easy, kitten.”
“Worried you might traumatise me again?”
It's a low blow. He scoffs. “Luke and Kieran said—”
“Luke and Kieran once bought arts-and-crafts feathers for Mephisto because they thought the colours would make him, and I quote: more aerodynamic.” You pinch his ear playfully. “I can’t believe you let them get to you.”
“I know,” he groans, lifting your hand so he can press chaste kisses along the line of your knuckles. “Not my finest moment.” He guides your palm to his cheek— leans into it as he leans into an idea. “They said you hated my eyes,” he pouts.
You can’t help giggling. He frowns. “I mean— aww, no,” you scramble, but you’re still laughing. You can’t stop. “Your eyes are… yeah. So pretty.”
“You had to think about it?”
“There were just too many adjectives, y’know? I was struggling to—”
He kisses you again, saving you: crushing your laughter with his own, lightheaded smile. His hand finds yours as his lips move against you, your fingers interlocking as you resonate— chasing an instinct, a need to be impossibly closer— and you let him see everything. Feel everything.
It’s a mad tangle of opposites. Heaven. Hell. Life. Death. You don’t know what any of it means, but it’s yours and it’s his and it doesn’t scare you half as much as it should. Sylus breaks your kiss. He pushes his forehead against your own with a sigh of contentment, and it doesn’t scare him, either.
Savour each second. Think of some better adjectives, while you still have the time.
He’s going to earn every single one.
…
✨Epilogue��
Inside, staring out through the floor-to-ceiling windows that separate the room from the balcony, Luke and Kieran stand, looking awfully smug.
“Mission accomplished,” Kieran nods, flipping closed his notepad, aptly titled: 101 Ways To Get Boss Laid! (There are only, currently, fifty-two.)
Luke’s arms are folded. “We’re like, the best wingmen ever.”
Kieran is silent. He repeats carefully: “Wingmen. Wingmen.”
The beaks of the crow masks gradually turn to face one-another. There’s a mutual epiphany, and both twins almost fall over laughing.
#🖋rach is actually writing#🌻 anon#sylus x reader#sylus#love and deepspace#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#qin che#sylus x mc#sylus x you#lads x reader#lads#lnds#l&ds
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the emperor’s love - emperor geta
Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader
Main Masterlist
Emperor Geta Masterlist
Summary:
Being pregnant with his heir has made Geta more in love with you than he ever could have imagined. He shows you just how much he loves you.
Part 1
Warnings:
Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, pregnancy
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N:
I wasn’t sure if I was going to write for Geta again, but he is actually living in my brain rent free. Another one inspired by my character letters by @miss-bushido, check out her writing and Etsy shop! I did research for this one, but I apologize in advance for historical inaccuracies! This is a part 2 to an heir for an emperor!
—
“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Geta mused, hand roaming over the growing expanse of your stomach. “A strong boy. The future of Rome is in your belly, you know that, Carissima?”
“And what if it’s a girl?” you asked, a giggle on your lips bringing a smile to the Emperor’s own.
“Then she shall take after her mother and be the most beautiful in all of Rome,” he said, hand caressing the skin of your belly. “And I’ll have to give you another.”
“Geta!” You playfully scolded, hand swatting at his as he laughed. “Another so soon?”
“Of course, my love. I need an heir. And to see you, swollen with child again so soon…” he leaned forward, pressing kisses to your neck. “Would be a gift. The gods have truly blessed me.”
You hummed, melting into his touch. You were sprawled together on your huge bed, dressed in your bed clothes for the night. His body curled behind yours, hands roaming your body wherever he pleased. Up and over your breasts, pinching at your nipples before moving back to your stomach; then down between your legs, feeling for the wetness he knew would be waiting for him.
“My love…” he whispered seductively against your ear. “Is there something you want?”
You whined, pressing back against him. He knew what you wanted, and he wanted it too. You could feel him already hard against your backside as he dipped his fingers between your folds. He collected your slick on his fingers and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean, tasting your essence. “Divine,” he remarked. “Somehow, you taste even sweeter.”
He lifted your tunic over your body, baring you to the night and his eyes alone. His hands trailed over your soft skin, so beautiful and flawless in his eyes. Perfection sent to him from the gods themselves.
Geta undid his own robe, revealing his glorious body fully naked, cock hard and standing proud as he gazed down at you. “You are so beautiful, Carissima.” His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he drank in your beauty. “Will you sing for me tonight?”
You giggled, knowing he didn’t exactly mean a ballad. “Perhaps if I feel inspired, my Emperor…”
A wicked smile crossed his face as he leaned over you, kissing up your body until he reached your lips. “Oh, how beautiful a melody I could pull from those lips…let me show you.”
He gently moved you onto your side, careful of your stomach. Geta had treated you like you were made of glass since he discovered your pregnancy. He had been overjoyed, but if you thought he was overprotective before, he became a whole different beast with his beloved wife carrying his potential heir.
He consulted the augurs at the beginning of your pregnancy. Since then he has prayed daily to the goddesses of childbirth; Eileithyia, Hera, Juno. He has left them daily offerings at their temples and shrines to ensure the safe delivery of your child.
You always had an entourage with you with your servant staff, but now you had a guard of Praetorians following your every move, as well. Even servants to taste your food before you could eat. Speaking of your food, Geta suddenly insisted on you receiving the healthiest, finest foods in the Empire. He still allowed you your fig cakes, at least.
The only time you got any peace, any time alone, were these cherished nights in bed with your Emperor. When he dropped his cruel and ruthless persona and became your husband. He would take care of you, massage your belly with oils each night. It was your favorite part of the day.
Once you were comfortably laid on your side, Geta moved back behind you, his body spooning against yours. He brushed your hair back over your shoulder, placing kisses against the skin of your back. “Do you remember our wedding night?”
“How could I forget?” You smiled, the memory rushing back to you. It had been less than a year, but felt like a lifetime.
It had been a beautiful ceremony. Everything you could have dreamed of. Your father had been proud to marry his daughter to an Emperor. The augurs had been consulted by Geta himself to ensure propitious omens and favor from the gods. You wore your beautiful white tunica recta, a gorgeous veil atop your head. There had been a delicious cake, as he had heard of your sweet tooth beforehand.
Afterwards, Geta took you to the bridal lectus, where he took you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but writhing pleasure beneath him.
Geta hummed against your back. “Do you remember how I surprised you in your chambers before the ceremony?”
You blushed. Of course you did. It had been such a surprise to find Geta waiting for you in your chambers, you weren’t even supposed to see him before the ceremony. You had been scared at first, you still hardly knew one another and you had heard plenty of stories, but his plans for you had been more than pleasing.
“I simply had to have a taste of my bride to be,” he continued. “It was all I could think about once I saw you for the first time. It plagued me those three months of our betrothal leading up until our ceremony. It was all I could think of when I was alone. Even just touching your hand to place the ring on your finger…” You felt Geta shiver behind you. “Carissima, I was yours, body and soul.”
He reached down to grasp onto your thigh, lifting it up and over his own leg between yours. You felt his thick tip prodding at your entrance, and you sighed, already so responsive for him.
“You’ve been so sensitive since you have been carrying our child,” he remarked as his fingertips traced slowly over your clit, before dipping down to press inside of you. You gasped loudly - you could feel his smirk against your skin. “I absolutely love it.”
You moaned as he pumped his fingers into you a few more times, but you were so wet you really didn’t need any preparation. He removed his fingers, sucking them clean with a groan, before pressing his tip against your pussy once again.
He didn’t ask before he started sinking inside - the Emperor did not ask for permission. But he knew you would have given it over and over again had he asked. Your head fell back against him as he filled you from behind, holding your leg up high to allow him enough room to get as deeply inside as he liked to be.
He bottomed out quickly and began thrusting in and out of your perfect tight heat, groaning deeply against your neck. His fingertips dug into your thigh as he fucked you like you needed to be fucked. He knew your body better than anyone, even yourself.
“Carissima,” he moaned; a weakness in his voice he would never let anyone else witness. It was raspy, desperate for more of the perfect fit of your pussy. He called your name over and over again in your ear, the title never sounding more sinful than it did in that moment.
“You feel so good,” you whined, your hips bucking back to meet his thrusts, to have him fuck you harder. He didn’t like to take you roughly with you in your current state, not like he used to. You missed it desperately. “Please, my Emperor, take me harder.”
Geta groaned loudly at your words, his composure faltering as his sloppy thrusts stuttered. “My beloved,” he said, his raspy voice pained. “Do not say things such as that. You do not know how hard it is to keep my control.”
“Please,” you begged again, back arching as you felt your release beginning to build. “Please, Geta, please fuck me.”
His grip tightened on your thigh and he groaned again, like you were causing him physical pain. He thought to deny you once again, but his primal instincts took over and he began fucking into you fast and hard. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, and you were certain between that and the moans you were both emitting, the entire palace could hear your lovemaking.
“Close,” you whined out, eyes falling closed as your orgasm built faster and faster. You could feel your pussy beginning to clench around his cock, and he felt it too, his hips stuttering again as he neared his own imminent release.
“Sing for me,” he encouraged you, laying your thigh on his leg so he could move his hand between your legs. You cried out loudly as he paid delicious attention to your aching clit, and your orgasm hit you, pussy spasming hard around your Emperor’s thick cock.
“That’s it, Carissima, let all of Rome hear how you sing for me!”
Geta gripped back onto your thigh, fucking into you fast and hard with no rhythm until he finally stilled pressed against you, shooting rope after rope of his seed deep inside you as he let out the most divine moans you’d ever heard.
He rode out both of your releases, shallow thrusts until all of his cum had been spent inside of you. He pulled out, laying on his back next to you as his chest heaved with his breaths. He opened an arm for you, and you laid against him.
These moments of bliss were your absolute favorite. These moments of quiet and peace and love between you and your husband. It was rare for an Emperor to find a true love like this. Rare for a woman to be so lucky in her marriage. You reminded yourself of your fortune often.
You reached up, playing with a lock of his ginger hair. He smiled down at you lovingly, the look on his face one of pure adoration. The truth of it was seen in his eyes, to his very soul.
“The child will be here soon,” Geta said, his hand once again splayed on your large belly. “I have arranged for celebratory games to be held for the next two weeks. I want all of Rome to join in our celebrating the forthcoming birth of our heir.”
You turned to him. “Geta, I’m not sure I should-“
“Shh, my love,” he hushed you. “You do not have to attend, anaticula. I know you do not care for them. And I would rather keep you both safe from harm.”
You smiled gently at your husband. Somehow, he continued to surprise you with how much he loved and cared for you, and now the child in your belly, too. You knew no matter if it was a boy or a girl, Geta would be the perfect father, would love this child fiercely. He would not let harm come to either of you.
“He needs a strong name,” he thought to himself. “Lucius. Septimius. But perhaps we should meet him first? See what kind of personality he will have?”
“We do not yet know if it will be a he,” you teased him, your hand resting on your belly next to his. You felt a small kick beneath your hand and quickly grabbed Geta’s, moving it to that exact spot. After a moment of waiting, a grin spread across the Emperor’s face, pure jubilation evident in his eyes.
“Boy or girl, they’re nice and strong,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “I love you, Carissima.”
You smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, my beloved.”
Geta rubbed your belly gently, soothing your nausea and pains as you relaxed into him in your large, plush bed. As you began to drift off to sleep in the arms of your Emperor, you heard his quiet voice one last time in your ear.
“Nunc scio quid sit amor. Now I know what love is.”
#geta#emperor geta#gladiator 2#gladiator ii#emperor geta x reader#geta x reader#emperor geta smut#geta smut#emperor geta fluff#geta fluff#gladiator 2 smut#gladiator ii smut#gladiator 2 fluff#gladiator ii fluff#emperor geta imagine#geta imagine#emperor geta blurb#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#keeryhours writes#emperor geta x you#emperor geta oneshot#emperor geta one shot#geta oneshot#geta one shot#emperor geta x fem!reader#emperor geta x female reader#emperor geta fanfic#geta gladiator#gladiator emperor geta x reader
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Nothing Fucks With My Baby
Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader
A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k
Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.
(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)
Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything.
But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car.
Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.”
You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.”
“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.
“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.”
Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words.
You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly.
“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel.
You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you.
The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face.
“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms.
You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy,
And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house.
You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.
Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway.
Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes.
Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father.
“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that.
The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”
Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?”
Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”
You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass.
You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”
“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face.
“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home.
You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard.
You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed.
You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties.
You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute.
And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me”
A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes, “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again.
He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties.
“but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway.
He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight.
You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again.
You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?”
A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit.
Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want.
Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face.
His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry”
His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis.
You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much.
You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words.
“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes.
“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair.
“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying.
Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips.
“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”
Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.
A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. Thank you for reading, and free Palestine
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#the last of us#joel miller fic#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller au#the last of us smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#tlou fanfiction#tlou hbo#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal#papaya writes <3
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Separated
A/N: probably my longest fic yet haha. Honestly, I seen a video of Hugh literally picking up another woman in front of his wife at the time and this idea has been living in my head rent free for a few days now. I'm trying to get out of my writing slump. And no this is not proofread
Warnings: angst, jealously, mentions of pregnancy
"Y/N, love, I'm sorry. It honestly was all just for fun." Hugh tries to explain as you start packing your bag. "Fun? You call flirting and picking another woman up in front of me, fun? Smiling and touching her waist all while I had to stand there and keep a fake smile on my face!" You exclaim, looking at him with fiery eyes. "What did you expect me to do? If I said no then I would've been accused of calling her fat and my career would've taken a massive hit!" He raises his voice and throws his hands in the air.
Taking a deep breath, you try to suppress your anger as you look at him. "So, your career is more important than your marriage?" You ask, quietly. "No, I never said that." Hugh tries to reach out for you but you back away from him, crossing your arms over your stomach. "You embarrassed me in front of everybody. All those interviews you've done where you flirt with the hosts and picking that woman up tonight, you've embarrassed me for the last time. We have this argument just about every time you do an interview because of how you act on them, and this is the last time I stand here and feel embarrassed and unworthy of your love. I'm leaving and I don't want you following me. You want to flirt with every single woman in this world then fine, your wish has come true." You take your ring off and set it on the dresser, not once sparring a glance at Hugh as you grab your suitcase and quickly leaving the house.
You drive to the nearest hotel to check in, noticing some of Hugh's friends standing outside but you walk right past them, hearing them whisper amongst themselves as to why you're there, but you continue on to your room.
Once up to your room, you lock the door and immediately hop in the shower. Tears flow down your face as you think back to all the arguments you and Hugh have had over the past couple of years, especially when it comes to him having to flirt with every single woman he is around. You understand it comes with the job for fans and interviewers to flirt with him, but he refuses to set boundaries because it 'hurts his career' as he puts it.
You set a boundary with all the men who interview you or hang around you to not flirt or touch you inappropriately, especially after Hugh got over-jealous one time, and it never hurt your career any. Two years you have wondered why he does it but you can never figure out why. When he's with you, he is the happiest man in the whole world but the moment another woman flirts with him, it's like something flips inside and he turns into a different person, especially when he didn't used to be like this.
Hugh was absolutely crazy about you in the beginning. He wouldn't even glance at another woman but now it's like he craves the attention even though he gets all of yours.
Wiping your tears, you finish showering and get dressed, grabbing your phone as you lay on the bed. You see numerous text messages from your friends about a TMZ link so you look at it and are immediately shocked.
Y/N & Hugh Jackman Reportedly Separate.
Who the fuck told TMZ..
----
A few weeks later, you wake up the next morning to knocking at your door. Silently cursing to yourself, you open it to see Hugh standing there with bags under his eyes and his beard starting to grow out.
"I thought I told you to leave me alone?" You spit, going to shut the door but he stops it. "Please, can we just talk for a minute?" His voice is soft but hoarse, making you wonder if he's been drinking anything. "I told you the other night I was done talking. I've talked for years and you didn't want to listen then." You say trying to shut the door again.
"Y/N, please." He begs and you notice tears forming in his eyes, causing your heart to slightly break. "Five minutes, that's it." You step aside to let him in, shutting the door behind you.
The two of you stand in silence and you watch as he fidgets with his ring, one thing he does when he's nervous to calm him down. "How did you find me?" You ask even though you know the answer. "A couple friends texted me the night you left that you was here." He barely says, coughing a little.
You grab a bottle of water from the fridge, handing it to him as he whispers a thank you. He drinks it and you go sit on the couch, motioning for him to follow.
"I'm sorry," He starts, "I know I've hurt you for a while now and I never wanted to do that but looking back at what I've done, I understand what's wrong. I tried every interview to set a boundary but the interviewers always wait until im on camera to ask me to say or do certain things that if i say no, it makes me look bad. Even my management team said if I tell them no then my career is ruined. My career is no where near as important as you are but darling, I love what I do. I don't want to lose my career but I don't want to lose you either."
"Do you remember when we first got married and I done that interview with Jimmy, the one he was flirting the whole time and you got really pissed off?" He nods and you continue, "What's different about you being jealous versus me?" His head turns down and you know he's finally understanding where you're coming from.
"I'm really sorry." Hugh chokes out, letting the tears fall down his face this time. "I don't know if sorry is going to work this time." You quietly say. "I fucked up and I don't expect your forgiveness. I don't deserve your love or anything." Hugh stands up, heading towards the door and looks at you as he opens it.
"I'll go file for divorce today and have the papers sent by the end of the day." He says and walks out, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts.
Divorce?
You never mentioned wanting a divorce, you really just wanted separation so he could realize the mistakes he made. Which leaving your ring didn't help any and that was a heat of the moment type of thing but you figured he would have tried to fix things before running to a lawyer.
You decide to go out for a cup of coffee so you head to the nearest shop, sitting down in a isolated corner of the building as you scroll your phone, seeing all the news articles trying to pick apart yours and Hugh's relationship.
As you drink your coffee, you see a full flash from the corner of your eye and quickly stand up, heading out of the shop and running straight for the hotel.
"Y/N! Where's Hugh at? Why did you two split?" You hear several paps asking but you ignore them, running straight into the lobby and you're thankful this hotel doesn't allow cameras inside. You start walking towards the elevators, hearing the paps start up again as someone walks through and you turn around, seeing Hugh's assistant walk through the doors with some papers.
'Well that was fast.' You thought to yourself. "Mr. Jackman wanted me to bring these to you." He says handing you the papers.
Taking them out of his hand, you see the word divorce at the top of the paper and hand it back to the assistant. "Take them back and tell him I don't want them." You say giving them back. "But, Mr. Jackman told me to give them to you and make sure everything was in order before I brought them back." He tells you.
"Kid, I don't want the papers. If this is a big issue then call Hugh and tell him I don't want them. I'm going up to my room now so go ahead and do whatever else you need to do." You smile as you walk away, heading back up to your room.
The moment you walk inside, your phone starts going off so you answer it.
"Hello?" You ask.
"Why did you turn away the papers?" Hugh's confused voice fills the phone.
"If you would have given me a moment to talk, you would have known I never wanted a divorce. I wanted you to try to fix things with us before going that route because I do still love you." You sit on the couch, listening to him sigh.
"I'm the stupidest man on this entire planet. I should've let you tell me your feelings, I'm sorry." His voice cracks but you don't think he's crying, yet.
"I want to work on these things with you, Hugh, but I want you to be able to figure out what all you have to fix on your own." You tell him, looking out the window.
"I've already fired my management team for making me believe I couldn't set boundaries and I'm releasing a statement today announcing that I'm taking a long break from doing interviews until people can start respecting the limits I set." He shuffles around and a small smile form's on your face.
"You really did all of that?" You ask.
"I did and I'm going to do more. I want my best friend back home with me." He softly tells you causing your tears to well up as he continues, "Can I take you out tonight?"
"Hugh, don't you think it's too soon?" You ask but he stops you.
"If you think so then just tell me no."
You think about it and your mouth speaks before your brain can come up with a reason. "Let's do it."
"I'll be there at 6, darling." He says before hanging up.
You look at the time, noticing it's 4 now so you get up and start getting ready.
After getting ready, you hear a knock on the door so you look at the time, noticing Hugh shouldn't be here for a few more minutes and you open it to see one of his friends standing there.
"Can I help you? Did something happen to Hugh?" You ask, confused. "The only thing that happened to Hugh was he lost the most beautiful girl by flirting with every one else." The man says, lifting a hand up to your face but you smack it away. "Don't touch me." You tell him but he steps closer. "I know you've wanted me for a long time so don't sit here and act like that." His foot steps inside but he gets flung back into the wall and you look in shock as Hugh starts punching him.
You run up to him, placing your hand on his shoulders causing Hugh to relax against you but he stands up, holding your face in his hands. "Are you okay?" He quietly asks, eyes meeting yours. You nod and hug him.
"Come on, Hugh. You know she doesn't want you anymore." The guy says from the floor and he turns around to look at him. "She didn't want you either, mate, but you tried forcing your way into her room after she said no." Hugh snarls as he kicks the guy so you grab his hand and lead him inside, locking the door.
You grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet as you start bandaging his hand. "This is not how I wanted our first date to start out." He tells you with a chuckle. "First date, huh." You state, looking up at him to notice he shaved his beard off.
He nods, taking your hand in his as he looks at you with soft eyes that speak a thousand words. "We should go if we're going to make our reservation." Hugh says after a few minutes, causing you to straighten up and finish his hand. "Alright, your hand should be all better." "Thank you, love." He tells you as he stands up.
You both walk out of the room and head downstairs, seeing the paparazzi still standing outside. "Is it okay if I hold your hand?" He asks and you nod, interlacing your fingers with his as he leads you out. The cameras flash like crazy as Hugh leads you to his car and he helps you in before getting in on his side.
"I wish I knew who told the media about our separation." He grumbles after he's been driving for a few minutes. "When I arrived to the hotel that night, there was a group of your friends outside, one being the guy you beat up tonight." You tell him. "Well you don't have to worry, I'm getting a new phone tomorrow and cutting a lot of people off." Hugh says, glancing over at you.
"You don't have to do that." You look over at him to see him shaking his head. "No, I have to do it. They're nothing but trouble for me anyways." He continues driving until he gets to fancy restaurant, leading you inside and acting like the sweet and kind Hugh that you fell in love with originally.
----
After dinner, Hugh takes you back to the hotel but notices the paps are still outside. "Love, why don't you just come back home? I'll sleep in the guest room but I don't want you being harassed anymore." He tries to reason. You think about it especially since you're tired of staying here. "I need to get all of my stuff if I do." You tell him and he pulls his phone out, sending a quick text before driving off.
"My assistant will get it tonight so don't worry." You smile when he says that, reaching your hand over to grip his. Hugh's hand squeezes yours tightly and you see a smile work it's way onto his face.
The drive to the house is fairly quiet and when you get there, he grabs some clothes and goes to the guest room like he promised. You change into some comfier clothes and lay on the bed, tv playing in the background with the volume off, as you try to go to sleep but after hours of tossing and turning, you sigh and get up.
Walking through the house, you think of all the memories that are here and you zone out thinking of everything, noticing you're in front of Hugh's door so you knock quietly. He opens the door and you're met with his broad, shirtless chest and he looks at you with a smile but has a confused look on his face.
"Is something wrong?" He asks. "Can I stay with you? I can't sleep." You quietly say and he steps aside, letting you in. You both get in the bed and he turns the light back off as well try to go to sleep.
Turning over, you lay your head on his chest and he wraps his arm around you to hold you closer, causing you to fall asleep quickly for the first time in 3 weeks to the sound of his heartbeat.
-----
A few more weeks pass and things have gotten entirely better for the two of you. Hugh held up his promises and set boundaries for everybody and he made sure to put out a statement regarding his behavior during the interviews and taking accountability on his part, he even goes to therapy and takes you along with him every couple of days.
Which, a couple of days ago you woke up deathly sick and after Hugh left to get some medicine, you took a pregnancy test and found out you're pregnant so now you're getting ready to go to your ob to find out how far along you are. You just have to tell Hugh and hope this doesn't backtrack all the work you two have done over the past few weeks.
"Hey, love." Hugh says, walking in and kissing your cheek as you greet him back. Yes, cheek, you two haven't made it back to kissing each other yet but you're hoping it's soon.
"Do you feel like taking me to the doctor? I still feel a little queasy after these past few days." You tell him and he nods, wrapping his arms around you. "I wonder what could be going on. You're not running a fever or anything like that and it's honestly got me concerned." He softly says, pressing a hand against your forehead.
"That's actually what I want to talk to you about," You look up and see his eyes glimmer as he looks at you causing you to smile softly before continuing, "I took a test a couple days ago and found out... I'm pregnant." Hugh looks down at you and you see his face go through several emotions before a smile breaks out on his face.
"Are you serious?" He excitedly asks and you nod. Hugh hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead before leaning down and kissing you deeply, feeling the world around you stop when he does. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer, feeling his arms wrap around your waist as he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.
"Is this okay?" He whispers against your lips. "More than okay." You whisper back as both of your lips connect again, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip.
"Shit, we have an appointment to get to." You breathe out, pulling back slightly. He nods and holds you there, burying his face in your neck. "Just give me a minute." He tells you and that's when you feel his erection straining against his pants.
"I'm sorry, hon. I didn't mean to get you hard." You apologize, holding him close. "Trust me, love, it doesn't take much for me to get turned on by you but I'll be okay. I'm just glad to have you back in my arms again." He admits, kissing your shoulder softly.
Your fingers play with the hair on his neck as he holds you in silence.
"Let's go to my appointment and we can talk about where we're at now. Okay?" You say as he sets you down gently and he nods, following you out to the car.
Once to the ob's office, you're lead back and they give you a sheet to put over your lower half so they can do an ultrasound. Hugh grabs your hand, staring at you lovingly as the tech starts checking you. A heartbeat fills the room causing you both to look at the screen and tears to flow out your eyes. Hugh kisses your forehead softly, smiling down at you.
"Well. Mrs. Jackman, it looks like you are 8 weeks along and the baby has a pretty strong heartbeat. You should be able to find the gender out at the next appointment." She says handing you the pictures she took. You nod and Hugh leads you out, taking you home after setting up your next appointment.
Once home, you notice there's food laid out on the table and you look at Hugh, confused. "I had planned a surprise for you tonight but I forgot about it when you told me about the baby. I hope it's okay." Hugh says with a bit of uncertainty. "It's more than okay." You smile as he leads you to the table, pulling your chair back for you and helping you sit down.
You two eat dinner, joking and laughing with each other the whole time and it feels like your relationship feels normal again. "Y/N, I want you to know that I feel bad about upsetting you the way I did a few weeks ago and for the past couple of years and I'm thankful everyday that you've given me a second chance to prove that you're the only person I want. I never want to live my life again without you in it so will you please marry me, again?" He asks getting on one knee in front of you.
You nod, pulling him into a hug after he puts your ring back on and he grips you tightly. "I love you, hon." You say, feeling tears come after saying that to hugh after a month of not saying it. "I will love you forever, darling. I promise."
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— mattel
SUMMARY : “it’s been a few years since tfw got out of the life, dean and reader are married, etc. dean’s been a little self-conscious lately—he doesn’t look like how he used to; he’s put on a few pounds. just dean with love handles (PLEASEEEEE dean with love handles lives rent free in my mind) body (dean’s) appreciation, lovey dovey stuff like that. reader taking care of him :))))) dean smut fic!!!!!” - anon
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : Alison (OFC)
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluffy, little angst, shameless horniess, dirty thoughts, size kink ngl
WORD COUNT : 2.9k
A/N : title from an avenged sevenfold song. this fills the square for sex shop on my @jacklesversebingo card. there will be a second part, hehe. xx
“Wow,” you looked around with your lips parted in astonishment at the hundreds of sex toys that covered the wall from top to bottom. “I’ve been missing out.” They had cute names and cute ‘mascots’ stamped on the boxes that held the toys within. You saw bunnies and panda bears and pretty colours like pink, purple, and sky blue.
Dean chuckled behind you and you turned to watch him roll his eyes as he looked to the side. You followed his gaze and you were bombarded with lewd sex books. One of them was open on a bookstand to a page with a man and woman having sex in a position that seemed too acrobatic to actually be pleasurable. You blinked, jaw dropped in shock, and turned your eyes to Dean whose cheeks turned deep red when he met your gaze.
“I’d break something if we tried this!” You exclaimed to make things worse for Dean, and took the same book that resided next to it to quickly flip through it, not nearly as excitedly as you’d hate to admit you were. “This can’t be purely for my enjoyment. Although this one looks hot! Imagine if you did tha- hey!” Dean snatched the book from your hands when two women giggled as they walked around the two of you.
You looked up at him innocently, but mostly seductively when he pulled you into the lingerie section. He shoved the book he’d forgotten about into one of the shelves. Now you knew why he decided to take you this early in the morning. The shop was practically empty after two hours of being open. And Dean, the grumpy morning person he was, hurried you into getting dressed so you could arrive ‘early’ after checking his phone a couple of times. (You imagined he checked the hours and days the shop was less busy and it amused you further.)
“You need to take this seriously,” he murmured, his attention mostly focused on one of the sets above your head. You bit your lip to hide your smirk, but failed and grinned mischievously at him.
“I am!” You pouted, subtly looking at the lingerie set that caught his eye. He gave you a look and you defensively crossed your arms over your chest and turned away from him. “Fine! I’ll pick something, go ask one of the women what they recommend for us, you know, something we can share-”
“What?” Dean suddenly sounded more embarrassed and in disbelief at your request. You could feel him get closer and your skin prickled with foreshadowing excitement.
“Oh, come on.” You turned to punch his arm gently, but he still rubbed the spot. “It’ll be cute to them, just let me look around some more… Please?” He bit his lip thoughtfully and you did the same to hold back a moan at the sight of him in a plain black t-shirt and the same sweatpants he’d abandoned the night before when he made you choke on his dick and beg for him to-
“Okay, baby.” He leaned down to peck your lips and then kissed your forehead as your stomach lurched with elation and your breath bubbled in your chest. You smiled softly at him, your dirty memory evaporating like a puddle in the middle of summer.
You tried to act as casually as you could after stepping out of the dressing room at the back of the sex shop and looked for where Dean was. The same woman—Alison—who’d helped you get away with your secret, winked at you as she talked Dean’s ear off about the toy you figured one of the other employees suggested to Dean.
You carried a small bullet vibrator Alison suggested—for discrete purposes—and a lingerie set. Not the one Dean was staring at earlier, you were currently wearing it beneath your lavender dress. Alison was clearly devious and not judgmental about your request when you’d approached her about it.
Dean visibly relaxed when he saw you and you smiled at him as he thanked Alison. Your eyes dropped to the box and you quickly read Tenuto Mini and you lifted a brow inquiringly at Dean.
“Well, if you have any more questions, I’d be happy to help!” Alison chirped and smiled wide as she walked off. You pursed your lips and watched her long brown hair sway across her back. Suddenly, you began to second-guess your daring move.
“Sweetheart.” Dean’s hand finding yours pulled you out of your flight-freeze state.
“Hey,” you breathed and attempted to smile normally at him, “find something good?”
His eyes slowly moved across your face and you felt your cheeks become warm. Could he read your mind, suddenly? You forced yourself to think of food and your favourite places to have lunch in order to push away your sexual thoughts. Fear is never good for you.
“I dunno,” he murmured unenthusiastically. Your smile fell and concern wrinkled your forehead as you traced the beautiful features of his face to get a read on him.
“What do you mean?” You laughed softly.
“I just… don’t feel…” he trailed off.
“Yeah?” You managed to utter past the knot in your throat.
He stepped closer to you, his gentle hand tapped under your chin in what you think was an attempt to comfort you, and opened his mouth to finally get the moment over with, but he shut it faster than you’d like.
“Dean, what’s-”
“I don’t feel hot… anymore,” he blurted out under his breath.
It was like a cold bath, icy water that killed the fire of both your anxiety and your arousal. You frowned hard, feeling deeply troubled and somewhat hurt by his admission.
“Oh…” you whispered. You watched him bite his lip and longed to be the one who sank your teeth against the plushness of them. You had no idea what to say to him, to comfort him, or even to change his mind about it. You never really considered that he felt that way about himself and part of you wondered when or why he began having those feelings.
“Let’s just go.” He attempted to take the things you were holding, but you felt more confident now about what you were planning. Have you failed as his girlfriend? You were more than happy to prove him wrong by going through with your dirty plan.
“No,” you asserted, “I don’t know when you started feeling that way, but I don’t agree.”
“Let’s… not do this here,” he said quietly, his hand slid up to your elbow. A small group of people entered the store, the bell above the door announced their arrival, and you huffed petulantly. He pulled you closer and you felt agitated—by his words—and wondered how you were even going to play your game out without making him uncomfortable.
“Fine, but we are buying these.” You plucked the toy from his hands and turned away to pay for them yourself before he could argue against it.
The car-ride back home was tense and awkward.
You were horny, upset, troubled, and deep in thought.
Your eyes occasionally drifted over to where Dean sat, his hands wrapped lazily around the steering wheel, legs slightly parted—relaxed. He was deep in thought himself, you could tell by the way he bit his lip and occasionally tapped his thumb against the steering wheel.
You could feel your frown deepening the longer you stared at him and the deeper you fell into the black hole of your thoughts, the more troubled you felt.
How could he not feel hot when you currently wanted to jump his bones and he wasn’t even trying to be sexy? But that was just you. And you had no idea how to comfort him. Or what to say. Just in general, you didn’t know what to do. Would he believe a word you said? Just because you felt it, doesn’t mean he did, too. And that was clear from the way he expressed he felt unattractive, despite the way you were clearly more than pleased to even lay your eyes on him.
He was so beautiful.
For the most part, in the past, you did feel slightly insecure. So you understood how he felt now. But once you started dating, your insecurity went down significantly. And now that the two of you were married, you didn’t doubt for a second that he thought you were beautiful.
Nearly every morning, it was normal for you to express how displeased you were to see him walk out the door for work or having to walk out earlier than him to work yourself. How could it be that he somehow felt not hot when you shamelessly drooled over him in a t-shirt and sweats? You worshipped the ground he walked on and more than loved to be at his mercy.
You hoped at least what happened last night would prove something to him. If the way he had you on your knees, barely allowing you to touch yourself as you took his cock down your throat meant anything to him. Or if the way he made you beg and cry for him to let you orgasm after teasing you with his tongue, fingers, and cock proved anything. You hoped the memory of all of that proved him wrong, basically.
He was all you could think about, always.
Now, your mind was filled with ideas of what you’d do to watch him beg and whimper for you, too. To make him get grabby and rough with you from how much you teased him. To make him delirious by keeping him from his orgasm. To tease him with slow strokes of your hands, your mouth, or your pussy, whatever would make him pound you into the mattress until you came too many times to speak or think coherently.
You wanted to feel him all over your body. You wanted to feel his warm cum inside you. To see the bruises of his fingertips on your hips. To feel the sensitivity and puffiness of your nipples from his mouth. To feel raw and tender and wet between your legs from whatever he decided to use to please you. To feel the soreness in your muscles of having been fucked.
You wanted to see the fierce possessiveness in his green eyes. To kiss the red blush on his freckled cheeks. To hear the arousing sounds of his pleasure rumbling deeply through his chest. To watch the mind-numbing pleasure contort his beautiful face. To see and feel the way his body became taut and tense as it moved with yours.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“What?” It was when you turned to look at him that you felt your thighs relax slightly. They were slick with your arousal and you were only half-ashamed about it. You felt hotter than you already were and shifted your hips shamelessly, only to feel the Impala’s air-conditioning cool the wetness of your neediness against your cunt. Your eyes fell to his hand as it wrapped around your thigh, his fingers squeezed the sides and you instantly imagined him doing it to your neck. You felt a rapid jolt of pleasure on your clit and pressed your lips together as you caught yourself imagining the look on his face if he dared to sneak his fingers higher to feel the dampness of your arousal against your inner thighs. You attempted to remain composed. “I’m fine,” you smiled, then bit your lip to save yourself from smiling too much or not enough.
He looked at you for a few moments and your heart only began to beat faster with each passing second. Dean turned slightly to face you and you realised that you were home when you caught a glimpse of your neighbour’s lemon tree out of the corner of your eye.
What you’d give to ask Dean to steal some off the branches that hung over on your side of the yard. Just to watch his shirt ride up, to reveal his sun-kissed skin, with his sweats hanging low on his hips, his arms flexing to reach the juiciest and perfect lemons for you-
“You’re not mad are you?” Dean’s hand slid up your thigh to grasp your hip and you held your breath—hoping he’d pull you into his lap.
“What? Of course not!” You breathed out when he squeezed gently, awaiting your response. He sighed softly in relief and smiled, his hand moved away and you frowned at the loss of his touch. “I’m… horny,” you admitted bravely and watched his eyes widen and his face turn red.
“Really?” He chuckled breathlessly. He suddenly looked more confident and relaxed. He leaned forward, brushed your hair off your shoulder with his hand, and let his nose tease your jaw as the scent of your flowery perfume made his brain foggy.
You shivered and knew you were already too far gone to play any games with him. You felt his lips ghost against your neck, one of his hands held your elbow, and his other hand moved your hair out of the way on the other side of your face. You somehow felt wetter than before and unbuckled your seatbelt to climb into his lap.
Dean’s laugh died down to a moan when you kissed him and his hands found your waist on instinct. “I really need you to fuck me,” you breathed against his parted lips.
He had the audacity to smirk at you and brought his hands back up to your face to kiss you again instead. He was gentler, slower than you could handle at the moment. His thumb brushed against your warm cheekbone and his fingers tangled in your hair and you wished he would pull on it—hard—as he made you ride his cock.
You whined against his mouth, so he shut you up with his tongue sliding in between your lips to meet yours. Your arousal felt uncomfortable between your legs and your skin began to heat up even more the harder your heart pounded in your chest. You ached for him. Your body ached for him. You wanted to feel him where he’d been a million times before and your body tingled excitedly at the thought of his touch.
You moved his hand from your face and guided it between your bodies so he could feel just how desperate and serious you were about your request. He continued to kiss you, allowing you to guide him. Your lips tingled with endless desire and he soothed your need by sucking on your lip and nibbling possessively on your reddened flesh. He gasped against your mouth and nearly choked on his whimper when his fingertips grazed your lace panties, now completely soaked in your wetness.
You pulled away slightly to catch your breath and he pushed your underwear to the side to feel your slippery folds and entrance. It was embarrassingly easy the way he slipped two of his thick fingers into your. He moaned appreciatively when you panted hard against his flushed cheek and he squirmed, biting hard on his lip.
You began to undulate your hips when he perfectly curled his fingers against your walls and thumbed at your swollen clit, keeping your wet folds spread apart with his index and pinky finger. “Make me finish, Dean. Fuck, I need to cum so bad,” you begged shamelessly, practically fucking yourself on his fingers, in his car, in broad daylight, of all things.
On any other occasion, you’d be utterly ashamed, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to end the pleasure of finally having Dean’s touch right where you needed him. He was so good at making you feel hot and bothered, and you were so ready and wet, you could even hear the abundance of your arousal with every movement of your hips.
You released his wrist and sneaked your hand into his sweats, tried to find the waistband of his underwear, but instead you felt his hardened length ready against your fingers. You inhaled sharply, felt the way your pussy pulsed excitedly around his fingers, and brushed your own lower to feel the already-smeared precum on the tip of his cock.
“Oh… fuck,” Dean murmured, wavering before his fingers slipped out of you, “not here.”
You expressed your complaint with an irritated moan, but removed your hand from inside his pants despite feeling only minimally motivated to obey him. “You’re not wearing anything underneath… And I’m somehow supposed to contain myself?”
His laugh was breathy and quiet against your mouth. “I don’t remember this being what you wore under your dress,” he attempted to change the subject with his accusatory tone. He bit his lip, gazing at you through those beautiful lashes of his when you forced yourself away from him. He wasn’t fully capable of hiding the mischief in his green eyes and you inhaled deeply, smiling, hoping to resist the urge to ask again for him to claim you in his car.
“I think we are both equally surprised at what we’ve found beneath each other’s clothes.”
Dean’s playful grin was followed by laughter he couldn’t contain, a glorious sound that made the millions of dormant butterflies scatter in your stomach. You exhaled shakily and admired him, before making the wise choice of taking the bag containing your new merchandise before escaping the warmth of his car.
Dean called your name happily, but you ignored him when you heard the sexy rumble of his engine die. You stole the key from the pot containing yellow daffodils as the Impala’s door creaked shut with that same sound that brought hope to you whenever he came back home to you again.
-> mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix
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petition for violet please my love hehe
forever, always - luigi mangione
♡ flower prompt: violet - a daydream about the future - meaning: loyalty & faithfulness ♡ w.c.: 1.3k ♡ a/n: highly requested prompt, it's 2am. pls have mercy on me. i love you all. enjoy!
♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested
You’ve always hated the question, “Where do you see yourself in ten years?”
What a trap, you think. It’s a polite way for people to pry their dirty fingers into your business–your uncertainties. It’s not like you avoid thinking about the future (sometimes you feel like you think about it too much) but answering that question always feels impossible. Ten years is so abstract, after all. It’s too vast, too distant to feel real. Yet, here you are again, the question living in your head, free of rent.
You look across the café table where Luigi sits, blissfully unaware of the chaos in your mind. He’s staring at the menu, brows furrowed in concentration as his fingers hover over the laminated options. You know he’s not actually interested in the coffees, not when the boy doesn’t even like caffeine. He’s scanning for something else: a tea, maybe, or a fruit smoothie. Something simple. His lips twitch into a pleased smile when he finally spots what he’s looking for.
“They’ve got a chamomile blend,” he says, glancing up at you, voice warm. It reminds you of the way sunlight feels on your skin after a harsh, long winter. “What about you? Are you already set on something?”
You raise your glass of water to your lips with a small smile. “Just the usual,” you reply, warmth grounding you in the moment. The café around you hums softly with conversation and the quiet clattering of cups, but none of it registers itself in your head. Not when Luigi looks at you like that, his attention is completely yours.
“You’re staring at me,” he says, tilting his head slightly, bemused.
“Just thinking.”
“Dangerous,” he teases. He doesn’t push you, though, just watches you with a quiet patience. It makes you feel like you can tell him anything, like he’d hold your words carefully as if they were fragile and delicate. You feel understood and seen under his gaze alone. His head tilts once more, a silent invitation to speak if you’d like to.
You do, but how could you even begin? The future feels like a fragile thing, one you’re afraid of vocalizing. Still, the thought of it remains, persistent and teetering on the tip of your tongue.
“I think,” you start, words unsteady at first, but growing firmer as you continue to speak. “I’ve been thinking about what it feels like to be happy. Content. To have everything feel right in your life, even if it’s not perfect.”
Luigi sets down the menu, eyes softening with curiosity. “Uh-huh.”
“I don’t really have a plan for it or anything,” you continue, nearly stumbling over your own words. “It’s more like a feeling I have. I don’t know if I could ever really have that, but the idea of it is stuck in my head. It won’t go away.”
“What do you picture when you think of that feeling?” he asks gently.
“A house,” you blurt abruptly. He blinks, eyebrows lifting, intrigued. “A little one that we own together. It’s not too big, but it’s warm and cozy. There’s a garden in the back and it’s a bit overgrown, but we both agree that it’s still beautiful. You’d probably spend all your time out there, trying to tame it.”
Luigi’s lips curve into a soft smile. He props his cheek up, fist rested against it, with his elbow on the table, gazing at you. “Sounds like a losing battle to me,” he says.
“Maybe,” you reply, smiling. “You’d come in with dirt under your nails, and tell me about how you finally got the roses to climb the trellis, even though the weeds just won’t quit.”
“What about inside?”
“Inside…” You pause, trailing off. “It’s a different kind of mess. We have bookshelves overflowing, little trinkets and postcards I’ve collected scattered everywhere. We have a record player because I told you how much I always wanted one as a kid and you bought one for me. You purposely buy vinyls with weird covers just to make me laugh. The walls are covered with little pieces of us. A lot of photos, some art. It’s not perfect, but it feels like it’s alive. Like it’s been lived in. Loved. And there’s always laughter,” you continue. Luigi leans forward slightly. You recognize something unspoken in the way he watches you, like you’re sharing something more important than just a daydream. “The type of laughter that makes your stomach hurt because you’re so happy, you don’t even care. It’s messy, but it’s ours.”
“It doesn't sound messy," he says. "It sounds wonderful. Is that where you see yourself in 10 years?”
There it is, you sigh internally. That dreaded question. You’ve spent so much time resenting it, the way it forces you to confront how little you have figured out about your life, how impossible it makes it feel to predict the kind of person you’ll be then or the kind of life you’ll live. Sitting here with Luigi, you wonder if maybe you’ve misunderstood the question all this time. Maybe it hasn’t always been a test, but an invitation–a chance to dream aloud, to let yourself want something even if you don’t know what the future carries. You’ve always been afraid to answer because it feels like committing to something intangible and fragile.
His hand covers yours suddenly, thumb brushing over your knuckles. You glance up at Luigi, his unspoken patience pulling you out of your thoughts. The weight of his hand in yours feels like a lifeline to you, something solid holding onto you in the middle of your uncertainty. And suddenly, the question you’ve disliked for so long doesn’t feel like such a trap after all.
Luigi makes you feel like your answer doesn’t have to be perfect, and it doesn’t have to include every detail of your imagination. It only has to be yours. For the first time, it doesn’t scare you and it doesn’t feel like an impossible demand.
“I don’t know,” you admit to him, honestly. You glance down at your joined hands, curling your fingers to interlock with his. “I don’t know where I’ll be in ten years or the kind of life I’ll lead or the kind of person I’ll be.”
You pause, lifting your gaze to meet his, words spilling out of you before you can second-guess them. “All I know is that I want you there. Forever, always.”
Luigi blinks, surprise flickering across his face before his expression softens, lips curling upward. It’s tender. His thumb brushes over your knuckles again before he speaks.
“Forever, always?” he repeats, like he’s testing the words in his mouth to make sure they feel as solid as they sound.
“Yeah,” you say, “I don’t know where I’ll be living or what I’ll be doing, but if I have you…I think I’ll be okay. Better than okay–I will be happy. Content.”
His lips curl further into a smile so genuine it makes your chest ache. “I think I can promise you that,” he says, voice steady. “Forever, always.”
“You can promise me that?” you laugh quietly, tilting your head. “You don’t think I’ll drive you crazy in ten years?”
“Oh,” he chuckles, shaking his head gently. “I’m sure you will, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that you’re the kind of crazy I don’t ever want to live without.”
You don’t find it in yourself to look away from him. For the first time in your life, the future doesn’t feel like a vast, unknowable, daunting thing–it feels manageable, hopeful. Beautiful, even. No matter what happens, you know one thing is for certain: you want Luigi by your side.
“Forever, always,” you repeat, the words rolling off your tongue like an oath. With your hands intertwined with Luigi’s in the small cafe you sit in, the world has never felt so right. The question you’ve hated for so much of your life feels like an open door now–all because of him. It’s a chance to step into something messy and imperfect and entirely yours with the love of your life.
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That Kids, Is How I Met Your Father - Seonghwa X Reader
Part of the CODN Summer Event - See You On The Flip Side
Genre: Mature, Angst, Crack, Fluff, Non-idol!AU
Pairing: Seonghwa X GN!Reader
Words: 2,700
Rating: T for Teen
Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, but really it's a really funny misunderstanding, a gun!, mature themes, not edited, I'll do that laterrrrr so please excuse any errors
A/n: Since the event was announced and I saw the first prompt, this has been living in my head rent free lmaooo I had way too much fun writing this, so I hope you all like it as well! It's not meant to be taken too seriously, so just have fun when reading it! At least, I hope you will! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~
Summary: You seem to have the most rotten luck when it comes to chatting up strangers... and asking them for help...
Prompt: Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss.
You have no idea how you got here. Perhaps it’s your penchant for excitement, or maybe even your love of adventure. However, if anyone would have told you that you’d be in this situation, you would have laughed in their face… followed promptly by an excited, yet curious, ‘really?’
Honestly, you can’t be mad. He is rather cute, and he did go along with it to start.
That’s what happens when you trust a stranger.
You had seen your ex across the park with their new fling walking hand in hand. Or, rather, the person they had been seeing the whole time while you had supposedly been in a relationship with them. Seeing them out looking so joyous had something within you twisting unpleasantly, and if they could look so happy being together and away from you, then so could you.
Looking around the park, you had done a quick scan of the area. Weeding out potential dangers, you finally zeroed in on your target. A man with shaggy black hair half tied up in a ponytail. He appeared to be alone, and the fact that he was crouched by the pond chatting with the ducks had an immediate good feeling towards him building within your gut.
Without a moment to waste, you ran over to him.
“Hi, I know this is really sudden, but could you do me a huge favour?” Your words come out rushed, cheeks heating as you avert your gaze to the side.
Unfortunately for you, your gaze caught on your ex and their now partner rounding the closest bend and getting even closer to where you were standing.
You didn’t even give the man time to respond. All you did know, was that he had stood back to his feet beside you, his beauty captivating you the moment you turned to meet his curiously quirked brow.
“Great, thanks.” You say, offering him a tight smile.
The sound of laughter meets your ears, and you immediately find yourself stepping closer into this mystery man’s side.
A call of your name draws your attention to the side.
“Oh, hey, Colin,” you grin, chuckling awkwardly as you meet his gaze. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Well, we were just out for an afternoon stroll through the park, and I couldn’t help but notice you with-“
“Oh, excuse me,” the man beside you clears his throat, extending his hand out towards Colin. You fail to see the pointed look he shoots your ex’s now partner. “Where are my manners? My name is Seonghwa.”
You swear you see Colin’s partner stiffen beside him, their eyes catching on a large silver and black ring on the duck watcher’s - Seonghwa’s - hand.
“So, how long have you and Seonghwa been together-“
“Well, it was great seeing you!” You cut their words off eagerly, a tight smile painting your lips.
Grabbing Seonghwa’s hand in your own, you pull him down the path and in the opposite direction of the two of them a bit frantically. You need to get away from an even more awkward conversation than what had already been started mere minutes ago.
“This was a dumb idea.” You keep muttering over and over to yourself as you drag him along. “God- how could I have been so stupid?”
You fail to see the curious quirk of the man’s brow trudging behind you.
Taking a quick look around, you manage to rush across the street and into a side alleyway. It’s a bit secluded, but you could use the space right now. Especially after seeing your ex again.
It takes you a full minute to realize that you’re still holding this mystery man’s hand.
“Should I even ask?” His amused voice greets your ears.
Instantly, you drop his hand, beginning to pace.
“All this time I thought I was over doing stupid things like this to get his attention, but no!” You drawl out that last word, shaking your head. “I just had to go and drag a random stranger into it instead of walking away. God, that was probably so uncomfortable for you. I’m so sorry!” You turn to him, your eyebrows drooping. “You probably think I’m some crazy person obsessed with their ex, or something. I promise you I’m not!”
Your words start rising in pitch, voice taking on a more frantic tone.
“I’m just…. upset at how happy they look after what they did-“ you take a sharp breath in. “And you probably don’t even care, oh my god. Here I am ranting to a literal stranger over my old relationship problems after dragging him across the street.”
The corner of Seonghwa’s lips quirk, resting his one shoulder against the brick wall of the alleyway casually. His eyes continue to track your every movement, amusement dancing within his gaze as he listens to you rant like he’s not even there.
After a few more minutes of you seemingly working yourself up, he cannot help but chuckle, “You know, there’s not many people brave enough to do what you just did.”
This seems to halt you right in your tracks.
You blink, turning to face him fully, and noticing how he’s still been here this whole time.
“To be fair, I thought you would have bolted the moment I dragged you into this alleyway.”
“You’re blocking the only exit.” The grin he wears only widens, watching as your eyes seem to dart everywhere but towards him now.
“Oh.” You laugh awkwardly. “So, I am.”
He says nothing in response, simply continuing to watch you in amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Well, then…” you clear your throat, stepping pointedly to the side. “I won’t keep you any longer.”
His grin only stretches wider across his face. “You sure about that?”
“Well, unless you want to hear all about the relationship struggles of a stranger, I won’t hold you hostage any longer.” You motion for him to walk passed with your hand, signifying his freedom.
“Believe me,” he pushes himself off of the wall, yet opts to stand directly across from you still with his arms crossed. “If I had wanted to escape, there is no way you could have held me here.”
To say you are taken back by his bluntness would be a great understatement.
“Oh?” Your brows raise, an expression of disbelief coating your features. “I mean, it’s not like I was being forceful!”
“On the contrary,” he chuckles, his eyes dancing in amusement. “I had no other choice than to follow you after you had grabbed my hand.”
“Well, I highly doubt you couldn’t have just pulled your hand free-“
“But then what would have our dear Colin have thought?” He hums, tilting his head slightly. “Would have been so scandalous for a couple to act so repulsed of one another.”
“I said I was sorry!” Your shoulders deflate. “You seemed like the best option in the park at the time and I took a chance! You’re the one who went along with it.”
“I’m not so heartless that I would leave someone in clear distress.” His words come out a little sharper than before, and you notice his eyes seem to harden for a moment.
You recoil slightly, blinking at him in disbelief. “I never said that you were.”
He holds your gaze, his jaw ticking. His shoulders seem tense.
“Well, thanks for your help, oh, great kung fu master,” you say, bowing dramatically with an arm across your chest while the other extends out towards the opening of the alleyway. “My apologies if I disturbed your duck whispering rituals.”
Seonghwa takes a moment to observe you, his head tilting curiously. A blink, and you have yet to come up from your mockery of a bow, which only causes a huff of disbelief to escape him through his nose.
“You really have no idea who I am, do you?”
You lift your head, brow furrowed. “Should I?”
Your response clearly catches him off guard. So much so, that he drops his arms to his side.
“Are you some celebrity that I don’t know about?” You shake your head, attempting to place if you’ve seen him on a talk show, or in headlines recently.
This time, the disbelief is clear on his face. “You’ve got to be shitting me…”
“I assure you, sir,” you reply pointedly, “that if I had any idea who you were, I most likely would not have approached the least intimidating stranger making animal crossing sounds at the ducks.”
His mouth falls open, eyes widening as he attempts to refute your statement.
“It was rather sweet, if I’m being honest with myself-“
A blink, and suddenly he has you pinned to the wall of the alleyway. His hands hold tightly to your shoulders, pressing you harshly against the brick as his dark eyes meet your own.
“You need to forget everything you saw, and, or heard today.” He says firmly, his lips curling over his teeth.
“Woah,” you attempt to lift your hands in a shrug, but at the way he pushes you firmer into the wall, his body now pressed against your own, you grimace. “Didn’t realize being human was a sin.”
“You don’t understand-“
“Oh, I don’t understand?” You nod once, slowly, your eyes wide. “Because I’m pretty sure this has taken quite a turn from what we both expected from the other.”
“You don’t realize how dangerous I can be-“
“Is this supposed to be some kind of bad boy act, because it really could use some work-“
“It’s not an act!”
“Oh, really?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips quirking. “Then, is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”
The man before you lets out a long sigh, his head dropping as he takes a step away from you. His hands move almost too fast for you to see, but at the sleek black object that he pulls out, your eyes nearly bulge from your head.
“A gun!”
“Keep your goddamn voice down,” Seonghwa hisses, tucking the object into the back waistband of his jeans. “I told you I wasn’t fucking around.”
However, you’re not even paying attention anymore.
“Oh my god, I’m going to die….” You’re mumbling again, blinking rapidly as you lean against the wall for support. “Stupid, stupid, stupid trying to enlist help from a stranger. A stranger with a gun, no less…” You smile tightly, looking like you may let out a shriek of disbelief at any second. “I’m gonna be kidnapped, and my cats will have no one to take care of them-“
“I’m not going to kidnap you.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He goes to reach for you in attempts to calm you down, but you recoil, causing him to immediately back down. “Your cats won’t be orphaned. Relax.”
“But you have a gun!” You whisper harshly, as if it should be obvious why he is a sudden threat to you.
“Hey, if anyone is the kidnap victim here, it’s me.” He hums, that same look of amusement back in his eyes.
“I didn’t-“
“I’ve already had to tell my personal guards to stand down twice since you’ve whisked me away-“
“I was about to knee you in the balls!”
“Yeah, you definitely would have been shot for that.” He states, rather casually at that.
The look of horror that paints your features is near comical at this point.
He blinks. “You’re not going to be shot-“
“I’m too young to die! I still have my whole life ahead of me!” You begin to wail dramatically.
“You’re not going to die.” He sighs, shaking his head lightly in amusement.
“Says the man with the gun!” You flail your hands, motioning to him with wide eyes. “I knew celebrities valued their privacy, but threats are a whole different ball game.”
“I guess you could call me somewhat of a celebrity.” He shrugs casually, seeming to bask in the idea.
“You, sir, need to sort out your priorities.” You deadpan.
“Says the person freaking out about getting shot by a gun I already put away.” He counters. “Believe me, if I had wanted you dead, you would have been by now.”
“Well, that just makes me feel loads better!” You throw your hands in the air in exasperation. “You certainly know how to pick someone up at the park.”
“You kidnapped me!” He replies, just as exasperatedly.
“I thought you said you’d have no trouble getting away if that were the case.” You simper, nose in the air as you cross your arms over your chest.
A moment of silence passes between the two of you as he takes you in. Then, the most startling sound escapes him since the beginning of your encounter with this mystery duck whisperer.
He laughs. Not a small chuckle, or puff of amusement. A loud, boisterous laugh which echoes off of the bricks of the alleyway as he nearly doubles over.
“God, I haven’t had this much fun since Joong shattered the duplicate blood ruby we were supposed to use to pull off the Mont Blanc heist.” Seonghwa straightens, attempting to catch his breath as he wipes at the corner of his eyes.
You blink, his words seeming to trigger a memory inside of your mind. Curiously, you tilt your head as flashes of breaking news bulletins flit through your mind, your mouth falling open in disbelief. You hand lifts, shaking lightly as you point a finger at him.
“You’re the leader of the notorious Hala gang?” Your eyes go wide, stunned disbelief painting your features. That is, until a shrill laugh is leaving your lips.
Now, it’s your turn to double over in laughter.
“You- you’re the-“ More peels of laughter escape you, hunching over to rest your hands on your knees.
“What’s so hard to believe?” He quirks a brow, seemingly amused by your reaction currently.
“You were making animal crossing noises at the ducks!” Your lips quirk upwards in the corners. “The big, bad, scary Hala boss spends his free time at the pond, cooing to the ducks!”
“Well, we all need hobbies other than murder sometimes.” He shrugs, as if this is the most normal conversation to be having.
“Right,” you drawl out, shooting him a sceptical look. “And diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend. Or, well, in this case, blood diamonds.”
“Actually, it was a ruby. But, fair enough,” he chuckles, his eyes shining as he stares at you across from him.
“Oh, pardon me,” you roll your eyes playfully. “We can’t all be versed in the world of jewels and gemstones.”
He takes a brief moment to observe you, seemingly coming to a decision. The corner of his lips twitches upwards.
“Would you like to be?”
His question clearly catches you off guard, and you nearly go tumbling over your own two feet as you push yourself off of the wall. “Excuse me?”
“Well, seeing as you’ve separated me from my lovely ducklings, and kidnapped me against my will…” he hums, closing the distance between the two of you carefully. “I think it’s only fair that we do something to my benefit this evening. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Almost as soon as he finishes speaking, he offers you his arm. A soft smile tugs at his lips, that glimmer of amusement shining once more within his dark eyes. He holds no aura of intimidation around him, nor does he seem to have any intent of harming you for the moment. Still, you cannot help but to eye him cautiously.
Your gaze flicks from his arm to his face, studying him carefully. Your brow quirks, and you cannot deny the spark of excitement that kindles within you as you gently place your hand on his arm.
“If my cats are suddenly orphaned cause I’m dead in a ditch somewhere…”
“Believe me, Darling,” Seonghwa chuckles lowly, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as he leans into you. He lightly tugs you in closer as you both exit the alleyway, ensuring that you’re pressed right against his side. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging to stay.”
#cultofdionysusnet#codn: summer 2024#ateez x reader#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa x you#seonghwa imagine#ateez imagine#ateez x you#ateez scenario#seonghwa scenario#mafia au#ateez au#crack!fic#kpop au#kpop imagine#kpop scenario#kpop x reader
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the perks of having a hot best friend
pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader
genres: fluff, crack, mild angst, best friends to lovers, college au
wc: 14336
warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, jeno is shirtless in a scene phew, too many idol features SORRY i lowk lost track of who i’ve included. i think that is all but lmk if you find something else!
summary: having a hot best friend is nice until you start getting butterflies in your stomach every single time you look at them.
note: JAEYUNVERSE COMEBACK WOOO i’ve missed writing long fics so much omfg but i’m shitting bricks as we speak LOL it’s been a while since i’ve posted something big and i won’t lie i’m hella nervous. i rlly hope you guys enjoy this fic ♡ please don’t hesitate to give me your feedback! here’s to hoping my writing skills haven’t become as rusty as i think i have hehe :’))
masterlist
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐊𝐒 !
01. an abundance of freebies and discounts
Lee Jeno knew the power his smile held.
All it took was one flirty laugh combined with those sleepy eyes of his for people to melt. Being the resourceful person you were, you utilised that talent of his to its full extent.
“Can you go and flirt with the cashier so she gives us a free muffin?”
Your best friend gave you a dirty look. “You do realise this is supposed to be your treat, right?”
“I am paying!” you exclaimed. “Just go do your thing and make her feel generous enough to slip a free dessert in our order.”
Jeno rolled his eyes, but you knew you’d won. You almost always did. “Fine, whatever. You owe me one though.”
“I’m feeding you because I owe you one,” you pointed out. “This makes us equal.”
“How riveting. I have to work so the person who owes me doesn’t have to owe me anymore.”
“We can argue about this for hours or you can haul ass to the counter and place the damn order. I’ll Venmo you the money the moment you’re back,” you promised.
Sliding out of the booth, Jeno said, “You’re lucky you’re cute. If this were Jaemin, I wouldn’t be letting him off the hook easily.”
You stuck your tongue out at him and shooed him away. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along.
“Hey!” you cried. “Don’t take me with you! The flirting won’t have any effect on her if she thinks we’re together!”
“Everyone thinks we’re together,” Jeno muttered and got in line behind an old man. “She checked me out when we entered the cafe, saw you arm-in-arm with me and gave you the dirtiest look to ever exist.”
You snorted. “Liar. You might be an eye candy but you do not command such a high level of attention.”
“I’m telling the truth!” he argued. “I would know because I was checking out the drink she placed on the counter. I was trying to figure out what the person’s order might have been to get something so incredibly delicious-looking. I saw her out of the corner of my eye.”
“Oh.” You frowned and took a step forward when the line moved ahead. “That’s unfortunate. Should we go to another cafe and try our hand at getting something free there?”
“How about you stop being such a cheap skate for once?”
Slapping his shoulder hard, you grumbled, “I have to bear the weight of my goddamn rent alone while you share yours with three others! I need to cut down on certain things, asshole.”
“My offer to move in with you next semester still stands.” Jeno wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m a really good housemate; ask the others.”
“You live with boys. The disgusting things you do don’t bother them because they do them too.”
He closed his mouth and thought about it for a second. Then, “Touché.”
You rolled your eyes, but before you could make another snarky comment, a pleasant voice interrupted, “Good morning. What can I get for you today?”
Jeno averted his gaze to the girl standing behind the counter and let a lazy smile take form on his lips. You raised a brow and watched in amusement.
“Hey there. Can I get a Strawberries & Crème Frappuccino with 1 pump caramel syrup, 1 pump hazelnut syrup, and 1 pump toffee-nut syrup? Java chips too, please.”
The girl—Lia, according to her name tag—looked surprised to see him blatantly flirting with you right beside him. Maybe he was right about every stranger assuming the two of you to be together, though you couldn’t fathom why. “O—okay.”
“What do you want, friend?” Jeno stressed the last word. Refraining to roll your eyes a second time, you said,
“Iced coffee without milk. Could you add some sugar to the brew? I prefer my drinks to be sweet.”
“Of course,” she said and nodded once, unfazed even after learning of Jeno’s status as an eligible bachelor.
Snorting under your breath, you whispered to him, “Lia doesn’t give a fuck. You’re lacking.”
He scoffed and nudged you away. “No, I’m not,” he whisper-snapped. “Get out of here. You’re killing my vibe.”
You deadpanned and gave him a don’t-bullshit-me look but retreated to your booth nonetheless. The last thing you heard Lia ask was: “Anything else?”
You’d only been sitting and scrolling through your phone for a few minutes before a hand slapped a receipt on the table in front of you.
Glancing up, you inquired, “What?”
“Read the order.”
Dropping your gaze to the piece of paper again, you picked it up. An appreciative frown tugged at your lips as Jeno slid into his seat. “You managed to get us a free muffin and a free bagel?”
“Don’t ever question my talents again,” he ordered and leaned back. Resting his arm on the cushion behind him and placing his ankle on his knee, his attitude was nothing short of a king’s. “I won’t tolerate any further slander.”
“Uh-huh,” you muttered, utterly unimpressed. Though you admit, a smile threatened to break out on your face and you had to bite your lip to keep it from escaping.
Jeno raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for something. All you did was stare at him, and when he realised you wouldn’t budge, he did an extremely horrible and high-pitched imitation of you that should have deserved jail. “Thank you sooooooo much, Jeno! If it weren’t for your flirting skills, I wouldn’t have anything to eat. You’re my one and only saviour, and I don’t know what I would have done without—”
“Order for Jeno!” Lia hollered.
Said-boy flinched and clutched his heart with his hand. “What the… That was quick.” Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to you, the tips of his ears red and his face flushed. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. Venmo me the bill amount.”
You snickered and watched him get up. However, before he could move out of earshot, you called his name. “Thank you for your service.”
Jeno glanced at you over his shoulder and did nothing but observe you for a moment. Then, a lopsided grin took form on his lips and he mock saluted.
“You’re welcome.”
02. gives good boy advice
“What are you doing here?”
Pushing past you, Jeno strolled into your living room and plopped down on your sofa. “Is that any way to greet your best friend?”
You rolled your eyes and closed the front door. Sitting down beside him, you placed your laptop on your lap again and resumed going through your notes. “I’m being serious. Were we supposed to hang out today? Because I cannot. I still have three finals left.”
“No, we didn’t have any plans today,” he said, peering over your shoulder to check what subject you were studying. It was Economics. Horrible memories from the previous semester resurfaced and he shuddered before continuing, “Your text said you wanted to talk about something important?”
You paused and glanced at him. “So you came over?”
“Do you want me to leave?” Jeno frowned. “I thought it would be better to talk in person.”
He stood up and dusted himself off. Eyes widening, you grabbed his wrist and forced him back to his original position. “That’s not what I meant! I do want to talk to you but—it’s weird. I don’t feel like dealing with whatever has happened right now and I’m getting second thoughts about asking you for advice.”
Concern seeped into Jeno’s face. “Woah, are you okay? You don’t have to explain anything right now. Just tell me one thing: do I need to beat anyone up? I’ve got a few gym buddies who are ripped.”
You huffed a laugh and placed your laptop on the coffee table. Crossing your legs, you turned to face him. Upon watching you get comfortable, your best friend rolled his shoulders back and did the same thing.
“Before I say anything, I need you to promise me that you won’t laugh. Or make fun of me. Or call me an idiot.”
“I won’t,” he answered immediately, though he wondered what issue warranted you to require his word.
Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “YangYang asked me out a few days ago. I’ve always liked him, but not in a way that’s not platonic. I fucked up and instead of rejecting him right there, I asked him for some time to think it over and kinda led him to believe that I would say yes.”
Jeno raised an eyebrow. “How?”
“I told him he’s my type,” you mumbled, cringing at the memories that came rushing back.
“What?!” he exclaimed. “How the hell did you manage to do that?”
“I don’t know!” you whined and buried your face in your hands. “He came up to me when I was in the library and asked if we could talk! I didn’t know he was going to drop such a bomb on me so I said yes. Then he started talking about how he’s always cherished our friendship and how he’s so glad to have me.
“I started suspecting where his train of thought was headed when he added a but to his sentence. He said he’s liked me for a while now and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. I was flabbergasted once he was done! I’ve always viewed him as a good friend and I didn’t want to just turn his heart down!”
“So you told him he was your type?” Jeno asked incredulously. “I know I promised to not call you an idiot but you’re really fucking stupid, Y/N! It’s going to be hella awkward when the group meets up!”
You groaned and closed your eyes shut, letting yourself fall on your back. “That’s not even the worst part.”
Jeno grabbed your wrists and hauled you back up. His face was barely a few inches away from yours when he ordered, “Explain.”
Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I told YangYang that he was cute and my type but I wasn’t in a position to think about going out with anyone with still two weeks of finals left to get through. I thought he would drop it but he asked me if I would think about his confession after our exams and I felt terrible telling him the truth. So I said I would. Yeji called me last night and said she set me up on a blind date with this guy in her class. You know how fast word spreads here. YangYang is going to know I dangled him on strings only to go on a date with someone else!”
“You’re going on a blind date? With whom?”
You flicked Jeno’s forehead. “That’s not the issue!”
“Well, I want to know!” he sputtered and slapped your hand away.
“I don’t know! Frankly, I don’t care either. I made a bet with Yeji and I lost. Now I have to spend an evening with a random guy I don’t even want to seek a romantic relationship with.”
Your best friend sighed in frustration. “This might be one of your biggest fuck-ups till now.”
“I know,” you said quietly and dropped your gaze to your lap in shame.
“You’ll have to apologise to YangYang and tell him the truth. He’s a good guy and he doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“I know.”
“Hey,” Jeno said softly. You glanced at him to see he’d gotten up and was holding his out for you. “Come here.”
You rose to your feet and let him envelop you in his comforting embrace. Burying your face in his chest, you whispered, “I never wanted to hurt YangYang. I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”
“You won’t as long as you come clean and explain everything. Don’t insult him further by giving him more half-truths. Guys would rather know what’s the real deal than be lied to and find out from someone else. Not only is it hurtful, but it’s a huge blow to the ego.”
Your lips curled in a small smile and you leaned back a little to look at his face. “Is this about your mom lying to you about the tooth fairy?”
“Damn right it is,” he grumbled. “I gave an entire speech about her being my favourite person in the whole world. That’s not something you recover from easily.”
“It’s been 15 years.”
“It’ll take me another 15 to come to terms with the fact that I used to rip my loose teeth out and place them under my pillow when I needed money urgently.”
You laughed and pulled yourself out of his arms. “I can’t believe I’m taking guy advice from you.”
“Why?” Jeno exclaimed. “I’m a guy too! Plus, I always give good advice!”
You giggled and plopped down on the sofa again. “I know. But you’re also Jeno. I’ve never thought of you as just a guy.”
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”
“How about you sit your ass down and help me study now that you’re here? I made flash cards.”
Snatching the stack from your hand, Jeno teased, “Oh, how would you survive without me?”
“I don’t have to wonder about that shit.” You grinned. “There’s no way in hell you’re getting rid of me anytime soon.”
He laughed. “And thank fuck for that.”
03. hugs always make you feel safe thanks to all the beef underneath
You were going to drag Jeno to the seventh circle of Hell.
You couldn’t afford to go grocery shopping with him when you had a huge exam the next day. You hadn’t studied shit and were one “have you prepared for tomorrow’s final?” away from a mental breakdown.
It didn’t help that Yeji had called you in the middle of the night to clear a doubt she had from a chapter you didn’t even know had been covered.
You’d been panicking ever since and it felt like you were going to get a heart attack at any moment.
“Doritos or Lays?”
“Kick to the nuts or knuckles to the jaw?”
Your best friend tore his gaze from the rack of chips and eyed you warily. “I said I’ll help you study tonight.”
“You don’t understand, Jeno!” you exclaimed and ran a hand through your messy hair, pacing in the supermarket aisle impatiently. “I’m going to fail! Fail!”
Groaning, Jeno grabbed your arm and forced you to face him. He held your shoulders and looked you in the eyes, enunciating each word as he reiterated, “You’re not going to fail. We’re going to pull an all-nighter in the library, but we need to be stocked up on food before we do that.”
You sighed painfully. It burned your eyes to just focus on anything—how the hell were you supposed to stay awake for another day and write a three-hour-long exam after that?
“You could have come here without dragging me with you,” you muttered. “I could have been studying at home instead of wasting precious time.”
Jeno frowned. “Any more time in front of your laptop and you would have gone insane, Y/N. Your eyes are completely red.”
“Oh, that’s not because of the screen time. I cried before you came to check on me.”
Huffing a small laugh that bordered on exasperation, amusement and worry, Jeno threw a few packets of Doritos in the shopping cart before slinging an arm around your neck. You let him pull you against him and wrapped your arms around his waist as the two of you began walking.
“Well, you needed to get out anyway. I don’t remember the last time I saw you leave your apartment.”
“I stepped outside yesterday to play with the neighbour’s cat,” you said defensively.
“Not good enough,” Jeno popped. “We’re going to go get a massage once we’re done shopping.”
You stopped in your tracks and peeled yourself away from him. “The final is in twenty-eight hours!” you yelled, staring at him incredulously. “Are you fucking stupid?!”
“So you have plenty of time to de-stress before you start studying again!” he chirped, paying no heed to your concerns nor the people who had heard your outburst and were giving you odd looks. “Trust me, I went for a massage before my final and I was so relaxed. It helped me to focus too.”
“Jeno,” you uttered his name with barely contained impatience. “I don’t have time. I need to cover a lot of shit before I go and sit in the fucking examination hall.”
“And I said I’ll help!” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated. Pushing the shopping cart forward again, he studied the shelves and continued, “You always do this, Y/N. You freak out before a test and act like the world is ending only for you to do super well.”
“Well—” you began, stumbling after him— “that’s just my coping mechanism! The more worried I am, the better I do. But I’m screwed for real this time!”
“No,” Jeno popped, placing a 2-litre bottle of Sprite in the cart. “I’m not listening to you this time. Especially not after you stayed awake for three days straight for your midterm.”
You sighed again. There was no arguing with your best friend. “How long is this massage of yours going to take?”
“We’ll be back at your place in two hours max,” he reassured you, patting your head. You swatted his hand away and gave him a dirty look. “I think we have everything we need to make it through today and tomorrow.”
“Why do we need such a big bottle of Sprite?”
“Party at my place this weekend. There’s a discount so I’m buying in advance.”
You frowned. “Shouldn’t you be stocking up on booze?”
“The guys said I have an alcohol addiction,” Jeno said, getting in line at the billing counter. “Which is, like, totally untrue but you know I never back down from a challenge. I’m going to prove them wrong by staying sober for two weeks.”
“Sure,” you snorted. “You’ll just find lame loopholes or cheat when no one’s looking.”
A sly grin took form on Jeno’s lips. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and drawled, “I know what you do when no one’s looking.”
“Really?” You feigned a gasp. “You know I sneak over to your house and steal your food when you’re not there?”
His smile dropped immediately. “Wait, what? That’s you? Not Hyuck?”
“The food thief is me but the one stealing your sheet masks is Hyuck,” you admitted.
“He steals my masks?! The ones I buy are expensive as fuck!” Jeno exclaimed, betrayal seeping into his features. His hands fell to his side and his eyes turned distant. “I can’t believe he’s been gaslighting me into thinking I do an extra round of skincare when I’m drunk.”
You giggled and pushed the shopping cart forward once the person in front of you was done. Placing the contents on the billing counter for the cashier to scan, you revealed, “Hyuck saw me raiding your pantry when you were at the gym. He used that as leverage against me for weeks before I saw him stealing your sheet masks and was able to finally strike a deal—he turns a blind eye to my robberies and I turn a blind eye to his.”
“Why’d you team up with him?” Jeno pouted. “I thought we were best friends.”
You laughed incredulously. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the part where Hyuck and I used your stuff without asking?”
“Well, yeah, I’m pissed you used my shit. But I guess I’m just a little more bothered that you guys teamed up,” Jeno said and shrugged, fetching his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Because, you know, coming together to make people suffer has always been our thing.”
You raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by how he was beating around the bush. “Are you saying you wanna team up with me to get back at Hyuck?”
Jeno grinned. “I’m gonna screw over that motherfucker so bad. You get off the hook, though, because you’re cute and I need your help.”
“You’re impossible.” You huffed and shook your head. Taking the bag of groceries, you said to him, “Text me my share and I’ll Venmo the money to you.”
“You could buy me an ice cream instead.”
“No,” you denied immediately. “We’re not wasting time on ice cream. Massage and then straight home so I can pick up my study material and we can leave for the library.”
Thankfully, Jeno didn’t protest. He drove you to your apartment complex and waited for you while you packed your bag. Then, the two of you were off to the massage place.
An hour later, you were done and forced to admit that the massage had indeed helped you. It felt like all the stress had left your body. Thinking about the final didn’t make you want to cry anymore and things were actually looking up now that you were rested.
You were able to retain the knowledge better and it was easier to understand the concepts. Jeno quizzed you and provided you with an endless supply of coffee throughout the night.
Right before lunch the next day, however, the panic resurfaced as you were revising your syllabus for the last time before your final at 3. You couldn’t seem to remember anything you had studied the previous night.
You could feel another breakdown coming, but before you could hyperventilate, Jeno scooped you up in his arms.
You hadn’t even realised when he’d come back from picking up your food. One minute, you were trying to control your breath and the next, your face was buried in his hard chest.
You held onto his shirt as his hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and he rocked you from side to side.
“Shh, don’t cry,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head. “You’re gonna ace the final like you always do. You were able to answer all the quiz questions, so keep in mind that you are prepared. The pre-exam anxiety is just clouding your thoughts. Everything’s gonna come back to you when you sit down to write, alright?”
Nodding, you clenched your eyes shut and bit down on your lip to keep a sob from escaping. Jeno’s presence kept acting like a tether for you. It always had.
Maybe he was right about the final. Maybe he wasn’t. But at that moment, engulfed in his warm, safe embrace, it felt like everything was going to be okay.
𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 !
01. having to deal with a narcissistic asshole.
It was an especially sweltering day.
You were being baked inside-out despite wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, your hair tied in a messy high bun. Adding to your torment was your broken A/C. You’d requested your landlord to fix it several times but your efforts were to no avail.
You would have kept bothering him incessantly and gotten the job done if you weren’t so intimidated by him already.
Sighing, you eyed your bathroom. A cold shower sounded like an amazing idea. Jeno wasn’t supposed to come over to watch the movie for a while anyway.
Deciding to cool yourself and get rid of the sweat sticking to your body, you entered the tiny bathroom. A high-pitched squeal left your mouth the moment you turned the shower knob and the cold water hit your skin.
“Fuck,” you cursed and flinched, turning the knob the other way immediately. Your shitty apartment didn’t even have a valve to adjust the temperature—the water was either mildly hot or ice cold. Showering in summer was always a big problem.
“God, I don’t wanna keep doing this,” you mumbled to yourself and stepped into your room again.
There was this… thing you’d been doing ever since you moved into this apartment. Whenever it was hot, you’d work out so you’d get more sweaty. That way, when you showered under the ice-cold water, it didn’t feel as unbearable.
It was weird and there probably was no science behind it, but you didn’t care as long as it worked.
So, you rolled out your yoga mat on the floor and began warming up.
Within no time, your skin was glistening with sweat and your hair was damp. You were struggling to complete the last push-up of your final set when someone knocked on your door, causing you to lose your focus. Your arms gave out beneath you, and you collapsed to the ground.
“Woah, it’s boiling in here,” Jeno pointed out intelligently. “And you look like you’re one move away from dying. God, I can’t even breathe Why the fuck are you working out with the windows closed? Are you stupid?”
Groaning, you rolled on your back and watched your best friend as he moved to the windows and threw them open. “Hey!” you protested weakly and raised a trembling arm in a pathetic attempt to stop him. “I’m trying to do something!”
Jeno raised an eyebrow at you and grabbed your hand, hauling you up effortlessly. “Oh, yeah? Pray tell.”
You crashed into his chest and rebounded, but he tightened his hold on you. His palm hovered over your back in case you lost your balance. Steadying yourself, you glared at him and snapped, “No. You’re gonna make fun of me.”
“I won’t!” Jeno laughed, his eyes crinkling.
“Stop, you’re doing it already!”
“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. I really do wanna know what you were doing.”
You eyed him for a moment, waiting for him to slip up and start laughing again. But Jeno’s face remained mildly curious. Satisfied, you explained, “Well, because I was feeling hot, I decided to take a shower. The water here is very cold, though, so I decided to work out in a closed room because that would make me even hotter. If I get in the shower now, it wouldn’t feel as cold because my body temperature has already increased, and the water would be sort of neutralised.”
A beat of silence passed. And then, “I know I said I wouldn’t make fun of you—”
“Then stop talking.”
“But did you not realise you could have mixed the hot and cold water in a bucket?” Jeno continued, clearly still talking. “Or, I don’t know, come over to my place to shower?”
“You live with three other men.” You deadpanned. “I was not going to shower in your apartment with Jaemin, Renjun and Hyuck there. Also, I don’t have a big enough bucket, so I will be buying one today,” you added, muttering the last bit.
Jeno rolled his eyes. “God, Y/N, I would have kicked the guys out.”
“What makes you think they would have listened to you?” you asked amusedly.
“Okay, true,” he agreed. “They would have listened to you, though. If there’s anyone who’s bossy enough to get them out of the house on a hot Sunday afternoon, it’s you.”
“Are you calling me bossy?”
“Are you going to shower now?” he deflected. “You stink.”
“Shut up!” you exclaimed and slapped his shoulder hard, but laughed nonetheless. Moving away from him, you kicked him off your yoga mat and said, “You opened the windows and interrupted my workout, so I don’t feel as hot anymore. I think I’m gonna exercise a little more so I don’t die of hypothermia in the shower. You can take my laptop and choose a movie till then if you want.”
“How about I work out with you?” Jeno suggested. “We can have our gym bros moment.”
“I don’t wanna have a gym bros moment with you.”
“Why?” he whined.
Flicking his forehead, you said, “Because I know you’re gonna turn this into a competition, and I’m not in the mood.”
“Scared?”
“You wish,” you scoffed. “I’m tired from all the working out I did before you came, and I’m not going against you when you have that advantage over me.”
“That still means you’re scared. Pussy.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, you got into the position for a plank. “Get out if you’re going to keep being annoying and not contribute shit to our gym bros moment.”
“I knew you’d come around,” Jeno replied smugly. You practically heard the grin in his voice when he said that.
You closed your eyes and laboured your breathing as you felt your abdomen begin to burn almost immediately. “Had to, or I knew you’d keep irritating me.”
Opening your lids, you turned your neck to see if he was doing the exercise with you.
Your arms gave out the moment you saw Jeno shirtless, his bulging biceps on full display.
“Damn, you lost quicker than I thought,” he commented.
“Why are you naked?!” you demanded in a shrill voice.
Still in position, Jeno only glanced at you like you were out of your mind. “I was wearing a hoodie, Y/N. Did you expect me to do a plank in that furnace?”
“Yeah!” you exclaimed. To your dismay, your eyes kept drifting to his well-defined muscles no matter how much you tried to focus on his face.
To make things worse, Jeno noticed. And smirked. “Stop complaining if you’re enjoying the view so much. It’s okay to admit you have a hot best friend.”
Flustered, you scrambled to your feet and looked at the ceiling. God, you felt like a stupid middle schooler. It was insane how much of an effect Jeno was having on you. What was weirder was that your mind was drifting to places it had never been before. At least where your best friend was concerned.
“Narcissus has nothing on you,” you muttered under your breath, and tried to gather your bearings.
“Besides,” Jeno continued, having not heard you. “I do send you pictures sometimes. I don’t know why you’re acting like you’ve never seen me like this.”
“Your phone’s camera is fucked, Jeno,” you grumbled. “The photos you texted me didn’t capture half of what’s actually there.”
No matter what you hadn’t seen, you’d felt whenever you hugged each other. It didn’t take away your surprise upon seeing the 2440p quality visual though.
“Is that disappointment I hear?” he taunted.
“No!” you exclaimed and finally looked at him again. At the sight of his working muscles, you muttered, “Can we stop now? You won.”
“Ah!” Jeno dragged the word as if he had just stumbled upon a revelation. “You want me to stand up so you can get a better view of my abs? Got it.”
Your eyes widened, and before you could deny his ridiculous accusations, he was towering over you. Wiggling his eyebrows, he gestured towards himself and flexed dramatically.
“You’re an idiot,” you huffed, unable to help yourself.
“Yeah? Then I guess an idiot just managed to fluster the shit out of you.” Jeno smiled and ruffled your hair. Bending, he picked up his discarded hoodie and shrugged it back on. “I’ll go and get you a bathing bucket from the supermarket around the corner. Don’t freeze yourself to death.”
You rolled your eyes. “I won’t.”
“Also, do you remember the shirt I forgot here all those months ago after I got wet in the rain? Can you find it so I can change into it when I’m back?” He frowned and looked at himself. “I’ll eventually toast myself if I watch the movie in my hoodie.”
“Sure, but you’re stupid for wearing warm clothes in summer,” you commented.
Jeno gave you a dirty look. “Sorry for assuming your A/C was in working condition. Besides, you always want to cuddle when we watch movies, so I figured you’d be more comfortable if I was wearing a hoodie.”
Your cheeks warmed at that, your heart stumbling a beat. What was wrong with you? You’d always known Jeno was caring and went out of his way to do nice things for you.
Typically, you’d have felt grateful for how thoughtful he was being.
Now, though, you felt that and… something else that you didn’t really want to acknowledge.
“Whatever,” you said instead, trying to sound dismissive. Pushing him out of your room, you continued, “I’ll find it. Just hurry up with the bucket.”
A few minutes after Jeno was gone, a notification popped up on your phone.
[jeno]: clearer picture that i clicked on jaemin’s phone for your viewing pleasure :”)
You blinked in confusion and opened the photo that was attached below, your eyes widening the moment you saw it. It was a zoomed-in gym mirror selfie of Jeno wearing nothing but sweatpants and shoes, his muscular abdomen on full display.
[you]: did you crop jaemin?
[jeno]: ???? [jeno]: wdym……. [you]: the photo’s dimensions are weird [jeno]: oh [jeno]: what the fuck [you]: LMFAOOO [jeno]: STOP I DIDN’T WANT YOU LOOKING AT HIM INSTEAD OF ME I’VE GOT A BETTER BODY ANYWAY AND I’M GONNA BUY A NEW PHONE SO I CAN SEND YOU CLEARER PICS WITHOUT HAVING TO CROP THAT FUCKER OUT
You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling too wide. Right before you were about to type a reply, you received another text from your best friend.
[jeno]: so are you gonna tell me what you think [you]: FINE you’re hot. [you]: happy? [jeno]: euphoric
Finally laughing out loud, you shook your head.
Narcissus had nothing on Jeno indeed.
02. female friends ask you to be their wingwoman
You didn’t think you’d ever accompanied Jeno to a party without having someone ask you to set them up with him.
“Please,” Yoo Jimin begged for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Yeji said he was single!”
Sighing, you mentally cursed Yeji for inviting Jimin to Jeno’s party. “He is, but I’m not setting you up with him.”
“Why?” Jimin demanded rather aggressively, making you wonder what it would take for her to quit nagging you. “Do you like him or something?”
It took a concerning amount of effort for you to refrain from rolling your eyes. “I do not.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know, Jimin!” you finally burst and gestured at your surroundings. “Maybe I’m not too keen on helping you out because you followed me into the washroom and cornered me! Maybe I feel used because you’ve never shown much interest in me even though I’ve tried striking up a conversation with you several times before!”
Jimin’s features softened, and she looked away. “You’re right,” she muttered, guilt and shame evident in her voice. “I’m sorry for jumping on you like that.”
You immediately felt bad for snapping at her. Pursing your lips, you tried to cheer her up. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need me to set you up with him anyway. I know we haven’t hung out much, but based on what I’ve heard about you from Yeji, you’re smart, funny and social. You have no reason to be nervous while approaching Jeno.”
For some reason, you regretted encouraging Jimin to pursue your best friend. A gaping hole formed in your heart, and you wished she would go for someone else instead.
“Thanks, Y/N.” Jimin smiled gratefully. “I know I’ve been a shitty person, but could you give me another chance? I’d really like to get to know you more.”
And just like that, the hollowness in your chest was gone. You gave her a genuine smile of your own and said, “I gotta pee right now, but does lunch tomorrow work for you?”
Jimin’s eyes widened. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot where we were.” Rubbing the nape of her neck sheepishly, she replied, “Lunch works. I’ll text you tonight so we can talk about it.”
The two of you exchanged your goodbyes, and then she was gone. A few minutes later, you exited the washroom as well and headed back to the party.
“I missed you,” a voice slurred in your ear. Arms circled around your waist, and a face buried itself into the crook of your neck.
You laughed. “You failed the challenge, Jeno.”
“Where were you?” he demanded in an almost whiny tone. “It’s your fault! I wouldn’t have lost at beer pong if you’d been playing with me.”
Patting Jeno’s back in consolation, you replied, “I’m sorry you have zero self-control and commit to things you know you won’t be able to do.”
Jeno peeled himself away from you and pouted. “You’re mean.”
“Thanks. Let’s get wasted together,” you said, but then added upon looking at his already tipsy condition, “Or I can get wasted, and your ass can keep me company.”
“Don’t you think one of us should be sober?” Jeno asked as you pulled him along.
“I’m not gonna hold back from drinking!” you exclaimed. “Let me remind you that you were supposed to be the sober one today and make sure I didn’t do anything stupid. I’m blaming you if I get naked in the yard.”
Thanks to the music that was gradually getting louder as you approached the main party area, you didn’t hear your best friend’s response. You tightened your grip on his hand when the crowd thickened. Wading your way through the dancing throng, you finally reached the table lined with alcohol and food.
You chose a bottle of Romanov and popped it open, drinking straight from it. You’d barely taken a few gulps when Jeno snatched it from you and put it to his own mouth.
Throwing him a dirty look, you picked up another bottle for yourself. “Do you wanna dance?”
“I wanna throw up.”
“Suit yourself.” You shrugged and aimed for the dance floor. A smile crept on your face upon seeing Jaemin; you were not in the mood to dance alone.
“Y/N!” he hollered when he noticed you. Stumbling towards you, he pulled you in a quick embrace. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”
“Finals!” you answered. Jaemin nodded in understanding and ran a hand through his hair, taking a swig from his beer. “Do you wanna dance?”
You grinned. “You know I do.”
The next few hours were a complete blur. The bottle in your hand was replaced by more one after the other, and when Jaemin deemed you’d had enough to drink, he gave you a red solo cup filled with water instead.
It felt good to finally unwind after the horrible few weeks you’d had. There was no academic stress weighing down on you anymore, and though you were low on sleep, you didn’t want to stop partying.
You just wished you and Jeno had gotten wasted together. While you were having fun with Jaemin, partying with Jeno was a different experience entirely.
Right as you were about to take a sip from your cup, you felt an arm being thrown around your neck. The touch was so familiar that you recognised who it was immediately.
“I missed you!” you exclaimed. Jeno looked down at you with a grin on his face, a pair of black party glasses sitting on his nose. His hair was damp and fell over his forehead. Maybe it was the liquor in your system, but you could have sworn he never looked better. “Let’s dance.”
“Dance?” Jeno laughed. “Haven’t you been doing that for the past two hours? Don’t your feet hurt?”
Frowning, you glanced at your legs. “They do!” you exclaimed, and looked back at him again, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Feeling tears beginning to pool in your eyes, you mumbled, “But I still want to dance.”
“How about we go on the roof instead? The stars look pretty tonight,” your best friend suggested, trying his best not to laugh at you. “I didn’t drink at all after you left me. I’m sober enough to take care of you now.”
Your eyes lit up at that. “Wow, that’s such a good idea! You’re so smart, Jeno. I love you.”
Jeno’s lips finally twitched up in a smile. “I love you too, silly.”
Plucking the solo cup out of your hand, he offered you an arm. You looped yours through it with a soft thank you and leaned on him as he led you upstairs.
The two of you entered his dark room, and Jeno shut the door behind him. Only when the loud music was muffled did you realise your head was throbbing.
He unhooked your arms gently and grabbed a warm blanket off his bed. Throwing open his window, he jumped out on the flat roof and looked at you expectantly.
You staggered behind Jeno and took the hand he was holding out for you. His other hand hovered over your waist as you climbed on the sill.
Thanks to the alcohol in your system, your balance was non-existent, and your legs turned to jelly the moment they made contact with the roof. Fortunately, your best friend was there to catch you.
You bumped into Jeno’s chest instead of falling to the ground. He wrapped his arms around you and steadied you, laughing a little at your antics.
“God, how much did you drink?” you heard him wonder to himself. You mumbled an incoherent response and leaned against the outside wall of his room, watching him lay the spread on the floor.
The two of you usually climbed the ladder that led to the slanting roof at the very top of the house, but you reckoned the boy in front of you didn’t want to risk taking you up there when you were so wasted.
Jeno sat down on the blanket once he was done and peeked at you over his shoulder, patting the space beside him. “Come on.”
Pushing yourself off the siding, you stumbled to him, tripping over your feet a bit. You were able to keep your balance, though, and a moment later, you found yourself lying on the blanket next to him.
Your shoulders brushed against each other, the warmth from his body seeping into you. It was summer, but the night air was still chilly, especially now that you were on the roof. You were thankful for the protection Jeno offered against the mild cold.
The music was blaring once again now that you were outside, and there were no barriers to deafen it, but the volume barely bothered you. Your eyes were on the stars, trying to identify the constellations.
“I see Orion right there,” Jeno said, pointing at the sky. You followed his finger, and sure enough, there it was. “And there’s Ursa Minor.” He moved his hand after noting that you had recognised Orion.
“I don’t see it,” you muttered, blinking heavily to clear your sight.
“Can you see Polaris?” he asked, glancing at you for a moment.
You raised your hand and pointed it at a random star that was nowhere near the one Jeno was referring to. “There.”
Jeno snorted. “You could spot Orion, but you can’t identify the brightest star in the sky?” Without waiting for a response, your best friend grabbed your arm and directed it to the right star. “That is Polaris.”
“Woah.” You gaped and lowered your arm. “It’s so shiny.”
Jeno laughed again upon hearing the child-like wonder in your voice. You stargazed often and always challenged each other to see who could identify the most constellations in a minute. He knew the night sky was familiar to you, but seeing you like this reminded Jeno of the first time he brought you to his roof and introduced you to his favourite hobby.
“Do you want it?” he teased.
Eyes widening, you turned your neck to look at him, your faces so close you could count his lashes. “Really?”
“Really,” he said and pinched your cheek, unable to help himself. “I’ll get it for you.”
A wide smile immediately broke across your lips, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you!” you squealed.
Jeno chuckled, a little surprised that you had practically climbed on top of him, and part of him was caged under you now. He didn’t mind the sudden intimacy. It had always been his love language; any sort of physical contact with you—be it comparing hand sizes or carrying you on his back—warmed his heart.
Patting your head, he asked, “You want me to show you the rest of Ursa Minor?”
“Yes.” You nodded into the crook of his neck and peeled yourself away from him, but your head still rested where his shoulder met his arm.
Brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on your face, he averted his gaze to the sky. “Polaris is the tail of The Little Dipper. Now we move towards the left. See the star that’s above the brightest? That’s Delta. Epsilon is above Delta too, but the distance between them is not as much as the distance between the first two. Zeta is below—”
You tuned Jeno out. He was still showing you the stars that made up the constellations, far too invested to notice that you were no longer paying attention to what he was saying and were looking at something much more beautiful instead.
You’d always known your best friend was attractive. You’d have to be blind to not notice his striking features—they were sharp with a certain softness around the edges. His face always stood out in crowds and demanded people’s undivided attention.
Rightfully so, you thought to yourself as you admired his perfectly straight nose and the shape of his soft lips, diverting your gaze to his eyes. You’d always thought they were his best features. They were warm and open and felt like home. It deserves to be appreciated.
“Pherka, Eta, Kochab and Zeta form a—”
“You’re prettier.”
Jeno glanced at you, your faces mere inches away and those beautiful eyes peering into yours with slight confusion. “What?”
“You said the stars looked pretty tonight,” you whispered. “I think you’re prettier.” You paused for a moment, as if rethinking your words. Then, “I think you’re the prettiest person in the world.”
A fond smile crept on your best friend’s face, and maybe it was because your ear was in the vicinity of his heart, but you could have sworn you heard it thumping loudly against his ribcage. Lightly bumping his forehead against yours, Jeno whispered back,
“I think you’re the prettiest person in the world too.”
03. it’s very easy to fall for them, especially when they’re always so sweet and caring
The first thing you felt upon regaining your consciousness was pain.
Your skull was splitting apart, the little bit of sunlight creeping in through the closed curtains rendering you blind. Nausea was beginning to set in, but your body was so weak that you weren’t sure you could make it to the toilet in time.
You should have never drunk so much. Not only had you not taken any proper rest after working yourself to exhaustion during your finals, but had also danced to the point you couldn’t move your legs. Heck, you couldn’t even remember much of the party. You recalled leaving Jeno behind to party with Jaemin, but everything after that was a huge blank slate.
The toilet was far away, but you could try reaching the dustbin near the study table instead of just throwing up on the carpet. Groaning, you tried to push yourself up. When that didn’t work, you put all strength in your abdomen and threw yourself off the bed.
A shockwave of agony passing through your body rendered you immobile on the ground. You moaned in pain and curled in on yourself, covering your mouth with a hand upon tasting bile on your tongue.
The door was thrown open, and a worried Jeno gaped at you lying on his room’s hard floor motionlessly. “What the fuck?”
“Dustbin,” you croaked with much difficulty, tears springing to your eyes. They hurt so much you wanted to rip them out.
Your best friend moved into action immediately. “I kept the dustbin right beside the bed in case you got sick, you blind twat truck. Along with painkillers and water on the table.”
You found it in yourself to glare at the boy, but he ignored you. Placing the waste basket in front of you, he helped you up. You gripped the rim as he gathered your hair in his hand and held it up to avoid it getting in the way of your vomit.
Right before you emptied the toxins in your body, you managed to say to him, “How capable do I look to you right now, you stupid toe-licking grinch man?”
Jeno rolled his eyes and rubbed your back with his other hand, patiently waiting for you to finish. Once your heaving stopped, you took the tissue he was holding out for you and wiped your mouth. You felt much better after throwing up but you were still so tired.
“Come on.”
You swatted Jeno’s hand away and rested your back on his bed, tucking your legs under your chin. “Too much effort,” you muttered and closed your eyes, willing the headache to go away.
“I was going to carry you to the bed, Y/N,” he said in exasperation.
“I just need a moment,” you whispered almost incoherently, wishing he would stop asking you questions when you had no energy to answer. “A moment and an Aspirin.”
There was some shuffling, and then you felt a hand brushing your matted hair out of your face. “Here.”
You peeled your lids open to see Jeno crouched in front of you with water and the painkiller you had asked for. Taking it from his hand, you popped it into your mouth and gulped down some water.
For a few moments, you tried to regulate your breathing and calm yourself down. Jeno could tell you were gathering the willpower and strength to climb back on his bed. He wanted to help, but you clearly didn’t want it. So, he just watched you silently struggle.
He should have been with you last night; he hated that he wasn’t when he had promised to be the sober half. As far as Jeno was concerned, Jaemin was going to get an earful about keeping tabs on how much his friends drank. Never in the two years of friendship had he seen you with such a huge hangover.
“Fuck,” he heard you curse under your breath. You moaned in pain as you pushed yourself up on trembling arms and fell on his mattress. Sighing, Jeno tucked you in and pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead.
“Sleep well,” he said and made his way to the door. “I’ll wake you up for lunch. Renjun is making grilled sandwiches.”
Your eyes flew open again. Fuck. You were supposed to meet Jimin.
“Jeno, wait,” you blurted, and he stopped in his tracks. “I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch, but I don’t think I can make it. Can you cover for me?”
Your best friend leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which friend?”
“Jimin.”
“I thought she ghosted you.” He frowned. “Now you’re meeting her for lunch?”
“No, you are meeting her for lunch. I don’t wanna be rude and cancel at the last minute. What if she already left?”
“It’s 10 in the morning.”
“Well, what if she turned down other offers because of the plans we made?”
“She left an hour ago with Mark after passing out on the couch in Hyuck’s room last night. I doubt she’s had the time to turn down any other offers. Actually, I think she’ll be glad you cancelled. She looked pretty hungover when she left.”
“Why are you being so difficult?” you whined, wincing when the throbbing in your head responded to the sudden increase in the volume of your voice. “I’m only asking you for a small favour.”
“I’m not being difficult,” Jeno defended himself and took a few steps towards you. “I’m trying to tell you that you may be overthinking this. Let me send her a text from your phone asking for a reschedule, and we can have some homemade lunch with the guys.”
Sighing heavily, you averted your gaze from his and stared at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna blow this. I think she’s really cool and I’d like to get to know her more. I’m good friends with everyone in our social circle except her. It’s awkward.”
Jeno’s eyes softened at that. “Y/N, you’re not blowing anything. Rescheduling lunch because you both partied till you collapsed is not going to take away any points. Trust me.”
Your best friend was right. You were overthinking this, but you didn’t exactly blame yourself. All your efforts to befriend Jimin had been futile till now. You didn’t want to do anything that could mess up the friendship that had begun to bloom last night.
“Fine,” you finally relented. “Shoot her a text from my phone. I think it’s in my clothes bag—” you paused, your eyes widening. Lifting Jeno’s duvet in panic, you looked down at yourself. “Who changed my clothes?”
“Ningning did!” Jeno answered quickly, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. He couldn’t understand why he was freaking out—nothing happened.
You exhaled in relief, trying to get rid of the alien tingling feeling spreading throughout your body. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “Okay. Well, my phone’s in my clothes bag.”
Jeno busied himself, rummaging through your backpack that was on his bedside table. What you didn’t know, however, was that it was just a front for him to calm himself down. “Got it.” He waved the phone at you. “What’s your pin?”
“Your birthday.”
His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and a seed of warmth sprouted in his chest. A dizzying sense of affection for you washed over him, drenching him in happiness from head to toe. “Really?”
You nodded and closed your eyes. Turning on your side to get into a more comfortable sleeping position, you buried yourself deeper under his sheets. Yawning, you mumbled, “Day-Month-Year with leading zeros.”
“My password is your birthday too,” he said quietly after sending Jimin the text. “A lot of them are. It’s the easiest set of numbers to remember.”
You didn’t respond. Jeno didn’t mind. He knew you’d already fallen asleep. Keeping your phone on the table, he smiled sadly and stared at your resting figure in longing. “Everything about you is so easy to remember.”
Jeno closed the door behind him as he left, none the wiser about the fact that you were still awake and had heard everything he’d said, your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to leap out of your chest.
Your best friend left, completely unaware of the fact that you were now entertaining the possibility of being in love with him.
𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 !
01. the green-eyed monster you resent makes an appearance more than you’d like
You genuinely couldn’t believe your friend group and their seemingly never-ending social battery.
One would think that after a long night of partying, a person would stay at home the next day and take some much-needed rest. Your friends, however, thought it was a good idea to meet up for dinner and decide what to do over the weekend.
You didn’t bother to remind them of the wonderful invention that was group chats.
“We should drive up to the beach,” Mark suggested, flipping through the menu. “Summer just started, so I don’t think there will be a lot of people.”
All of you were seated in a round booth at the back of a diner Chenle said he frequented. You weren’t going to lie; you could see why. The setting was very homey, and the cushioning of the sofa was very cosy—you were almost sure you were going to fall asleep even before your food arrived.
Ningning, who was sitting beside Mark, peeked over his shoulder to see what was listed. Minjeong said, “That’s stupid. The start of summer is exactly when beaches get overcrowded. Most don’t get to visit the ocean during the year, so they make a beeline for the beach as soon as break begins.”
“True,” you heard Jeno say. He leaned back in his seat and put his arm on the cushion behind you. You resisted the urge to lean in. Taking a sip of his water, he continued, “Besides, we’re already going to Jeju Island for a week next month. I don’t think we should drive three hours to go to the beach right now.”
“What about karaoke?” Jimin piped up. She was sitting on the other side of Minjeong, opposite from Chenle, who was on the other side of the table.
“We don’t need an entire weekend for just karaoke,” Chenle pointed out. “We could do it whenever we want.”
“Well, what about—”
“Hey, can I take your order?” a female voice that was a combination of annoyed, upbeat, friendly and polite interrupted Minjeong. The girl looked a little flustered at being cut off, but she cleared her throat and mumbled a small yeah, just give us a minute.
The waitress did not move, so all of you awkwardly picked up the menu cards and began flipping through them.
“The usual for me, Yuna,” Chenle said, smiling up at her. To diffuse the sudden tension created in the air, he began making small talk with her as she waited.
“What are you eating?” Jeno asked. He was closer to you now, his eyes scanning the contents of the menu card in your hand over your shoulder.
You shrugged. “I don’t think I’m eating anything. I’m not very hungry.”
Jeno’s eyebrows creased, and he glanced at your face in worry. “You haven’t had anything since lunch. At least drink something.”
“It’s fine.” You dismissed him with a wave of your hand and pushed the card in his direction so he could order whatever he wanted. “I won’t be able to finish anything by myself and I don’t wanna waste food.”
“How about we share?” he insisted. “You eat however much you want, and I’ll finish the rest. Don’t go to sleep on an empty stomach.”
An internal battle began. While Jeno’s suggestion was sensible, you knew he didn’t like to share his food with anyone. You remembered a time when he had refused to go on a second date with a girl because she kept nibbling on his meal. You didn’t want him to do something he hated just for your sake.
“Really, it’s fine,” you repeated. “You go ahead and—”
“Hey, Y/N,” Yeji called, making you divert your attention to her. “You wanna share a triple-decker chicken sandwich? Chenle said this place is famous all over town for that dish.”
You had to admit, a triple-decker chicken sandwich did sound tasty. But you’d just turned down Jeno, so you didn’t wanna say yes to Yeji. Shaking your head, you once again said, “I’m not hungry.”
“Why aren’t you hungry?” Mark frowned, overhearing your conversation. The rest of your friend group looked at you in concern. Ningning asked, “Are you okay?”
You groaned. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to everyone why you didn’t have an appetite. “I’m okay. I’m just not hungry because I had a lot for lunch.”
“That’s a lie,” Jeno commented unhelpfully, and you smacked his shoulder hard in retaliation. He winced, rubbing the area of attack. “Hey!”
“Shut up!” you exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, you said to everyone with as little annoyance in your voice as you could, “Please just order what you want. I still feel a little weird after last night’s party, and I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.” Before anyone could reply, you added, “I’m going to the restroom. Be right back.”
Yeji looked a little stunned, but she got up from her seat and let you leave the booth when you requested her to move. Locking yourself in one of the stalls, you clutched your stomach and curled in on yourself, closing your eyes.
Your period cramps were especially painful this time. Maybe it was because of last night’s exertion, but your cycle was early too. Your stomach was in too many knots for you to even think about eating anything.
The washroom’s door opened, and you heard soft footsteps trudging towards you. Knocking on the only occupied stall’s door, a female voice asked, “Is everything okay, Y/N?”
“Yeah,” you croaked, feeling tears burning your eyes. “Everything’s fine, Jimin. I just have period cramps, that’s all.”
“Oh.” There was silence for a moment. “I have painkillers. Do you want them?”
Exhaling through your mouth, you wiped your moist cheeks and stepped out of the stall. “Sure.”
Jimin smiled at you reassuringly and handed you a wet wipe, looping her arm through yours. “Don’t worry. I got you.”
Your heart swelled with happiness and gratitude. You’d wanted to connect with her for so long, and it finally felt like you were getting somewhere this time. Maybe you were being overemotional due to your fluctuating hormones, but you wanted to pull her into a hug.
“Oh, also,” you started a little sheepishly, “I wanted to apologise in person about cancelling on you earlier today. I drank and partied more than I should have. I thought about sending Jeno to cover for me, but he pointed out that it would have been awkward for you to see him when you were expecting me.”
“Woah, wait!” she gaped and took a step away from you. The shock on her face surprised you for a moment, but the feeling didn’t last long. “You’re kidding me! You should have kept insisting, Y/N! A lunch date would have been the perfect way for us to get closer!”
“I don’t think he would have considered the lunch a date because he was just a stand-in for me,” you said awkwardly, and threw the used wipe in the dustbin.
Jimin waved you away as you walked out of the restroom and back to your booth. “I mean, yeah, it wouldn’t have been an official date, but it would have given me the opportunity to ask him out on a real one.”
“Right.”
You hated the way you sounded. You hated the way your stomach churned, and your mood dropped. You hated that someone was pursuing Jeno. You hated that you were being forced to play Cupid, all thanks to your strong refusal to admit your feelings and the friendship you wanted to build with the girl next to you.
“Oh, my God!” Jimin exclaimed, too immersed in her own fantasies to have noticed the change in your tone and demeanour. “I can make up for the missed opportunity by sitting next to him right now! You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
You did mind. The idea of her making a move on your best friend made you want to dig a hole and cry. God, you were being so pathetic. This was completely unlike you, and you despised the way you were acting. You had to pull yourself together immediately.
Besides, it wasn’t like you were ever going to explore these newfound feelings you had for Jeno. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your friendship. Forcing an encouraging smile on your face, you said, “Um, sure! That’s a really good idea.”
“Took you guys long enough,” Chenle commented once you returned.
You raised an eyebrow. “Did you have any other places to be?”
“I mean I was worried.” He rolled his eyes. “We ordered food while you were gone. You sure you don’t want anything, Y/N?”
“Yep,” you said, popping the last letter. “Scoot over and make space for us.”
Yeji got up again and stood to the side as Jimin, and you slid into the booth. “The two of you better not make me get up again. I’m not budging even if you need to take a big dump.”
“Sorry,” you muttered, smiling at her sheepishly. Making yourself comfortable, you grabbed your glass of water and dipped a straw in it, idly sipping the liquid.
Jeno’s gaze caught yours from behind Jimin’s back. He pointed at her with a frown on his face and mouthed, “Why is she sitting beside me?”
You waved him away and turned your attention to the rest of your friends. “Please tell me you guys finally decided what we’re doing over the weekend.”
“We did,” Mark piped up. “We’re thinking of going to an amusement park and then a water park.”
Jimin frowned. “Won’t those places be crowded as well?”
“We just need to accept that most destinations will be. Everyone’s on break, so it doesn’t matter where we go. There will be people everywhere.”
You agreed with Minjeong. “Amusement park it is. Can we hit the bars at night?”
“It won’t be much of a trip if we don’t.” Ningning grinned. “You sure you want to go clubbing so soon though? You were completely wasted when Jeno called me to his room and made me change your clothes last night.”
Mark snickered. “Are you scared of changing your own girlfriend’s clothes, Jeno?”
Silence. No one spoke.
NingNing was staring at Mark incredulously, and Yeji seemed to be suffering through an extreme case of second-hand embarrassment. Chenle pretended to flip through the menu while Minjeong grabbed her phone and scrolled through the apps on her home screen in an attempt to look busy.
Jimin whirled to face you so fast that you wondered how her neck hadn’t snapped. You couldn’t even dare to look at Jeno to see what reaction Mark’s words had evoked out of him.
Laughing awkwardly, you asked, “Who said we’re dating?”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Mark scoffed in disbelief. “You guys are so bad at keeping your relationship private. Everyone knows there’s something going on between the two of you.”
“Is that true?” Jeno asked, but no one present at the table dared to meet his gaze. “Do all of you think there’s something going on between Y/N and me?”
“I mean….” Chenle began, dragging the word out. “You both are very close. People who claim to be just friends don’t cross the boundaries you two step all over everyday. But we’ve never seen you kiss either, so we’re not sure if you’re dating secretly or…”
“You guys are crazy,” you interrupted. “Stop speculating about our relationship. It’s weird.” Turning to face a very betrayed-looking Jimin, you enunciated, “Jeno and I are just friends. That’s all there is to us.”
“Yeah,” Jeno added, glancing at you. “Y/N and I will only ever be friends. There’s no way I would date her. I don’t find her attractive in a romantic way.”
Feeling a knot form in your heart and anger bubble in the pit of your stomach, you snapped, “Same. Jeno’s not even my type. I wouldn’t get together with him if we were the only people left on Earth.”
Your friends exchanged knowing glances, and poor Jimin, who was stuck sitting between Jeno and you, made an attempt to diffuse the tension. “Okay, guys. We get it.”
“I’m not sure you do,” Jeno hissed, staring all your friends down. “I can see your damn faces. The only way you’re going to believe I’m not into Y/N is if I prove it to you by going out with someone else.”
Minjeong began, “That’s not—”
“No, he’s right,” you fumed. Under the table, your hand curled into a fist. “The only way you guys are going to get this stupid image of Jeno and me being together romantically is if we date other people.”
“The two of you are overreacting!” Yeji exclaimed. “There’s no need to get so defensive! We were wrong for assuming, and Mark was an idiot for opening his fat mouth. I’m sure you both would have told us if there was something. We’re all sorry.”
There was a chorus of agreement on the table. Everyone genuinely seemed to be apologetic—except Mark, who was glaring at Yeji and looked mad for being called an idiot. His eyes met yours, and a sheepish smile took form on his lips.
You huffed a small laugh and shook your head, but your heart was still in knots. There was a certain hollowness in the pit of your stomach. You felt sick and anxious.
Did Jeno really have to say all those hurtful things just to convince your friends about your platonic relationship? He didn’t need to sound so offended and make your mutual denial a competition.
Sure, you were the one who had declared there would never be anything more than just friendship between Jeno and you, but he didn’t have to cross the line by saying you weren’t appealing to him.
Besides, you’d said what you’d said for Jimin. You didn’t actually mean the words that left your mouth. Considering the emotions you’d been feeling recently, it would be a lie to claim you didn’t hope for a different sort of future with Jeno.
It didn’t matter anyway. A romantic relationship between the two of you wasn’t practical. Your best friend had never so much as hinted at wanting something more.
In a twisted way, you were glad he said those wounding things. You needed to be pulled back to reality.
“Hey, Jeno,” you heard Jimin say once the food arrived and everyone started eating. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch and watch a movie sometime this week?”
Bile rose to your throat. You hoped to God he would say no. You didn’t care if you were being a shitty person; you didn’t think you could take any more of this torture.
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
Your eyes were trained on your glass of water, but you didn’t need to look at him to know he was surprised. As much as you hated eavesdroppers, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to learn where this conversation was going.
“I am.” Jimin chuckled nervously.
Jeno didn’t reply immediately. The rest of your friends were engaged in their own discussions with the people sitting next to them. The table wasn’t silent by any means, but the only things you could hear were Jimin waiting for his answer with bated breath and the pounding of your heart in your chest.
Then, “I would be honoured.”
Oh, you were most definitely going to throw up.
02. you fall for them
You hadn’t talked to Jeno ever since dinner with your group.
He hadn’t reached out to you, and you hadn’t tried to contact him either. You’d received a text from Jimin the next day about the specifics of her date with Jeno. They were supposed to meet up for lunch at a restaurant near your college campus and then go out to watch some sappy rom-com.
He didn’t even care for rom-coms. You’d begged him to watch one with you countless times and he’d always turned you down. Part of you wondered if he knew Jimin was updating you about everything and he was purposely pulling this shit to get back at you.
But you dismissed the notion immediately. No way were you so dense and self-centred. Maybe Jeno genuinely was into Jimin.
Your phone began ringing, and you rolled over on your bed, blindly searching for it on your bedside table. God, you hated being woken up in the middle of your afternoon naps. It almost always guaranteed a headache.
“Hello,” you said groggily, your throat raw and dry. “Who is this?”
“Oh! Did I wake you up?” It was Jimin. She sounded upbeat. Your heart sank. “I’m so sorry!”
Pushing yourself up, you rubbed the gunk out of your eyes and made your way to the window. The darkness made you bump into the corner of your study table, and you bit down on your lip to keep a yelp from escaping. Hobbling, you threw the curtains open and said, “No worries. My alarm was just about to ring. How was the date?”
Laughter bubbled from the other end of the phone line. “It was cool! He is a really good guy. No wonder everyone is head over heels for him. He opened the door for me, didn’t let me spend any money even though I asked him out, was an excellent listener, called me pretty and beautiful, and drove me back home. Oh, God, and the eye-contact? It made him a hundred times sexier.”
Seems legit, you thought to yourself. Jeno had always been a gentleman. The other girls you’d set him up with had pretty much given you the same feedback. Part of you felt relieved that this date hadn’t been any different than the others he’d been on.
Except the rom-com part, of course. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why he would agree to something he hated.
“Ah, I’m happy for you, Jimin!” you exclaimed, trying your best to mean what you said. Your own words tasted like ash on your tongue. “Are you guys going on a second date?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. He said he had a great time with me, but when I tried to ask him out again, he just hugged me. That took me by surprise, and I kinda just forgot.” She laughed. “I know good dates usually end with a kiss, but the fact that he didn’t go for one didn’t bother me.”
“Oh,” you mumbled. Sitting on the ledge of your window, you asked, “That sounds nice. Do you think you’ll try asking him again?”
The last thing you expected her to say was no. And the way she said it… she didn’t sound sad or upset or disappointed. She sounded like herself. She sounded the way one would when they talked about the weather.
It confused you. Didn’t Jimin just say the date was really good? She sounded so happy and delighted. Why was she backing out now?
“I—I don’t get it,” you sputtered. “I thought you were into him. I thought you had a great time today. Why aren’t you going to ask him out again? Did something else happen—?”
“Calm down.” She chuckled. “Nothing happened.”
“Huh? Then what’s the problem?”
“Nothing happened,” she repeated. “That’s the problem. I like Jeno. He’s attractive, funny and caring. He’s everything a girl would want in a guy. But there was no spark between us. I had a great time with him, but hanging out today didn’t feel any different than usual. It felt like I was hanging out with a good friend, not with a potential romantic interest.
“I was looking forward to exploring what I felt for him. Turns out, it was just physical attraction. It also turns out that he wasn’t into me at all. If it wasn’t obvious the night we all went out for dinner, it was glaringly clear today. I think part of the reason he said yes was that he didn’t want to hurt my feelings,” she added. “The other—major—part was that he’s in love with someone else, and I would rather die than be a homewrecker.”
“Oh,” you said again. You didn’t know how to respond to that. What did she mean Jeno is in love with someone else? You didn’t dare focus on the last part of what she’d said. You didn’t dare hope that the person she was referring to was you. “Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out between the two of you. I’m sure you’ll find someone else easily. You’re a delight. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”
Jimin laughed again. “If you weren’t in love with Jeno too, Y/N, I would have thought you were into me.”
It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Forcing yourself to laugh, you croaked, “Whatever do you mean?”
Saying that was a mistake. You should not have asked her to elaborate. She was going to make you come to terms with your feelings, and all the time and effort you’d spent denying and trying to get rid of them was going to go down the drain.
Before she could speak, you made a static sound with your mouth. Then, you pretended that the connection was really bad. “Wha—hear—you. Try—back. Hell—?”
You hung up before Jimin could call you out on your bullshit. A moment later, you saw a text pop up.
[jimin]: that was soooo unsubtle [y/n]: idk what ur talking ab!!!!!!! [jimin]: sure [jimin]: also a tiny heads up [jimin]: i told jeno to stop being a pussy and an asshole so he’s on his way 2 ur place now [y/n]: WHAT THE FUCK [jimin]: i’m going 2 pretend u said thank u [jimin]: don’t forget ab our dinner date tmrw [jimin]: have fun <3
It was crazy how the bell rang almost immediately after you read the last text. You wondered if the timing was planned and that Jimin had told Jeno to wait till she gave him the go-ahead.
You trudged to the front door and took a deep breath before opening it.
“Hey,” Jeno mumbled with a small smile. His hair was ruffled, as if he had run his hands through it several times. “Can I come in?”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you nodded and moved out of the way to make space for him to step inside. He shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jeans and stood awkwardly.
“You can sit,” you said, feeling the corners of your lips curl up in amusement.
He sighed and wove his fingers through his strands again. “Not before I apologise for my behaviour. I was completely out of line that day,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.”
“So you don’t think I’m unattractive?”
You meant to tease him, but the next thing you knew, he was standing toe-to-toe with you, a desperate and guilt-ridden expression adorning his face. “God, no. You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I only said that because… because I knew it would hurt you.”
Jeno was standing too close to you. You could barely breathe, much less think. But that didn’t stop you from asking, “Why would you want to hurt me?”
He didn’t answer for what felt like an entire minute. He only kept staring at you, an internal battle raging inside him. Then, he let loose a breath of frustration and moved away. He refused to look at you, and your patience kept slipping with each moment that passed.
Right when you thought it would snap, Jeno spoke up, “It hurt me when you said you and I would only ever be friends. I know how stupid it sounds, but it really did. For years, I’d been pining after you and hoping that maybe we could be something more in the future. I felt like an idiot when I realised wouldn’t ever view me in that light.
“You got so defensive when Chenle said all our friends were suspicious of us being in a secret relationship. I couldn’t help but wonder if you felt disgusted at the idea of us being together. I got angry at myself for being naive and said those horrible things without even realising.”
You didn’t know what to say. This was the second time you’d been rendered speechless in the past thirty minutes. It was one revelation after the other; you were having a hard time keeping up.
“You—you like me?” you stuttered.
Jeno laughed humourlessly and looked you dead in the eyes. “I love you, Y/N.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
You took a step back. “No, no, no, no—”
“Yes,” he pressed. “I’m sorry that I do. I know this changes everything, but I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I just—”
“Why would you go out with Jimin if you… if you love me?” you whispered.
“Partly to see your reaction and partly in an attempt to get over you,” he admitted. “It didn’t work. I just—I just couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time I was with her. I felt so guilty for saying such terrible things because I couldn’t deal with my emotions and come to terms with reality. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry too.”
“You don’t have to apologise for not loving me back—”
“That’s not what I’m apologising for,” you interrupted and walked towards him until your abdomens were touching. “I’m apologising for not seeing it sooner. I’m apologising for encouraging Jimin to ask you out even though it killed me. I’m apologising for denying my feelings time and time again. I’m apologising for saying we would only ever be friends. The last thing I want is for our relationship to be platonic.”
Jeno was barely breathing. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you too, Lee Jeno,” you mumbled and stood on your toes, cupping cheeks with your palms. “I’m saying I want you to kiss me.”
The words didn’t register immediately, but his lips were on yours the moment they did.
Jeno’s arm snaked around your waist, and he pulled you closer. His hand grabbed your neck from behind, and he tilted his neck to the side, deepening the kiss.
Your breath hitched in your throat. All you could feel was him. Your nerve-endings were short-circuiting, and pure adrenaline was coursing through your veins. You didn’t think you’d ever been as satisfied and euphoric as you were right now.
Jeno’s lips slotted with yours perfectly. You smiled to yourself upon realising he tasted like chocolates. Your best friend always ate a piece before any event he deemed to be very important. He claimed they gave him good luck.
Letting go of one of his cheeks, you grabbed the round collar of his shirt and pressed your mouth harder against his. The nights you’d spent wondering how kissing him would feel and then hating yourself immediately for having such thoughts amounted to this.
You didn’t want to hold back.
But you had to ask him a question. It didn’t matter how stupid or ridiculous it was; you wanted to know the answer. So, you broke the kiss and inquired with your body still tangled with his, “Why the hell did you agree to watch a rom-com with Jimin?”
“Really?” he asked exasperatedly. “You wanna talk about Jimin while we’re making out?”
“I wanna know why you watched a rom-com with her when I’ve been begging you to watch one with me for so long,” you corrected.
Jeno was silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to tell you. You raised an eyebrow. “Well,” he started, blowing out a breath. “She told me you set her up with me, and it pissed me off even more. I knew she’d tell you all about our date, so I suggested we watch a rom-com. I knew you’d be riled up once you realised.”
You snorted. Who knew? You weren’t actually being a self-centred narcissist when you suspected the same. “You’re an idiot. I was already riled up you were going out with her.”
“Oh, yeah?” he teased. “Why’d you encourage her in the first place then?”
“Honestly, at first, I thought I could use you to further my friendship with her,” you admitted. Jeno scoffed in disbelief. “Yeah, I know. That was kinda shitty of me. But when I realised I was falling for you, I pushed her to pursue you in an attempt to convince myself I was not into you. That obviously backfired and did the very opposite. I was horribly miserable. I wanted to shoot myself everytime I heard her gush about you.”
He smirked. “She gushed about me?”
“Oh, get over yourself.” You shoved his shoulder playfully. “How’d you end up here after your date? Jimin texted me that you were coming.”
“Tough, but I’ll try.” He laughed. “She was probably able to tell how disinterested I was. After the date when I dropped her home and hugged her instead of kissing her, she just confronted me and asked if I was in love with you. Then told me to not bother answering because it was obvious. She said she didn’t want to get in the middle of us and threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t come here to make amends immediately.”
You grinned. “Oh, the things I would have done to witness that scene.”
“It was scary.” Jeno frowned. “She hit my shoulder really hard when I said I was in love with you and called me an idiot for going out with her. I think she was angry at herself too for being oblivious to our situationship. It was one of the weirdest dates I’ve ever been on.”
“Jimin actually said she had a great time with you. She told me it was nice.”
“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised.
You placed a chaste kiss on Jeno’s mouth. “Hmm, I wonder how good the best date you’ve ever been on would be then.”
He chased your lips and kissed you back deeply. Caressing your cheekbone with stars twinkling in his eyes, Jeno said, “I guess we’ll know when I take you out.”
“No way, are you officially asking me out on a date, Lee Jeno?” you asked, and let out a fake gasp.
“Damn right I am,” he declared. “I don’t want the amusement park trip with our friends to be our first day out as a couple. Do you wanna grab some food tomorrow afternoon? We can go to the trampoline park before that.”
You smiled softly. “That sounds wonderful. But,” you added. “No more flirting with restaurant staff for free food, or I’ll go ballistic on you.”
Jeno laughed, and you thought it was the most beuatiful sound you had ever heard. His chest rumbled with the force of it, his eyes creasing to look like small crescent moons. Slipping his hand into yours, he squeezed once.
“Wouldn’t even dream of it.”
note: THANK U FOR READING TILL THE END WHAT ??? loads of hugs and kisses :’)) also i know i said this before but posting after a rlly long time has lowkey made me anxious LOLL i think i could have done better with the fic esp the end bc it’s a little rushed. honestly speaking i am ready to move on to my next wip and i don’t wanna spend more time rewriting this one :(( i still love this piece though and i would definitely love to hear your thoughts amigos!! stay healthy and hydrated <33
thank you to mira for coming in clutch and helping me out with the plot when i was stuck + giving me her honest opinion! thank you to dori too for reading parts of this fic and giving me her opinion as well! i love you both :D
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Bookworm & the Prince
Pairing: Fiyero x neutral!Reader
A/N’s: After seeing Wicked. Fiyero aka Mr. Jonathan Bailey has been living rent free in my mind 🫠 This is my first time ever posting any of my writing on tumblr that is. I’ve written before on FanFiction but it’s been awhile. Please let me know what you think!
Summary: Reader enjoys spending their time in the library, Fiyero tries to make things more fun and interesting but it ends up backfiring on him.
Warnings: None really. Just fluff and a lot of flirting/teasing.
The Shiz University library was usually a quiet sanctuary for Y/N. It was their refuge from distractions, filled with books that demanded attention instead of loud voices and obnoxious flirting. Unfortunately, distractions had a way of finding you— particularly when they had a royal title and a smirk that refused to quit.
You needed one more book for your paper on ancient magic, but of course, the one you needed was on the highest shelf. You stood on your tiptoe, reaching as high as you could, but the book was just out of your grasp.
“Need a hand?”
You turned to see none other than Prince Fiyero leaning casually against one of the bookshelves, watching you with an amused expression. His signature grin was already in place and his eyes twinkled with mischief.
You sighed and let your arm drop, not bothering to turn around. “I’m fine, Fiyero.”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Fiyero said, appearing at your side. He glanced at the book you were trying to reach and grinned. “You know bookworm, you could just admit you need. I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Because your ego isn’t inflated enough already?” You shot back, still refusing to look at him.
Fiyero chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Before you could protest, he reached up and plucked the book from the shelf with ease. But instead of handing it to you, he brought it behind his back, leaning casually against the shelf with one hand holding the book out of sight.
You narrowed your eyes, turning to face him fully, “Really?”
“Really,” he said, his grin widening. “This is way more fun than just giving it to you.”
You stepped closer, reaching for the book, but Fiyero moved quickly. Using his free hand, he gently but firmly pressed his palm against your shoulder, holding you back just enough to stop you.
“Ah ah,” he teased, shaking his head. “That’s cheating.”
“You are insufferable,” you said, your voice flat, though the spark of amusement in your eyes betrayed your true feelings.
“I’ve been called worse,” he quipped.
You huffed and tried to dart around him, but Fiyero shifted, keeping the book firmly behind his back and blocking her with his body. His other hand lifted to stop you again, hovering near your arm.
“Fiyero,” you warned, stepping closer, “you’re going to regret this.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” he said smoothly, his eyes locking with yours. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you want this.”
You paused, tilting her head and regarding him for a long moment. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, you reached behind him, your fingers brushing his as you tried to snatch the book.
Fiyero laughed stepping back and raising the book high above his head, well out of your reach, “Nice try.”
“You’re such a child,” you said, glaring at him.
“Come on, bookworm, play along,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing. “You spend all your time buried in books. Don’t you want a little fun?”
You rolled your eyes, “What’s fun about this, Fiyero?”
“Everything,” he said with a wink.
You narrowed your eyes, then tilted your head slightly, a smile playing at your lips. “Oh, I see. You think you’ve got the upper hand, don’t you?”
“I know do,” he smugly.
Your smile widened, and you stepped closer, your voice dropping into something softer, more playful. “Well, then I guess I’ll just have to convince you to give it to me.”
Fiyero blinked, caught off guard by the shift in demeanor. “Convince me, huh? I’d love to see you try.”
You moved even closer, until there was barely a breath of space between them. Her gaze locked on his, her voice low and teasing.
“Do you really want to play this game, Fiyero? Because I don’t think you’re ready for me.”
For the first time, his grin faltered, replace by a flicker of uncertainty. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and he leaned down slightly, meeting her challenge. “Oh, I’m ready love.”
You smirked, your fingers brushing his arms as you leaned just enough to peek behind his back, pretending to make a grab for the book. “Are you sure about that? Because you seem a little distracted.”
Fiyero’s laugh was nervous but amused as he shifted the book to his other hand and lifted it high above his head. “Nice try.”
You laughed softly, your tone still playful. “I don’t know, Fiyero. You look like you’re struggling to keep up.”
“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” he said, lifting the book even higher,
You raised your eyebrow, stepping even closer, your hand trailing lightly up his arm. “You are so confident,” you murmured, your voice sweet. “But confidence can be dangerous, you know.”
Fiyero’s breath hitched slightly, and his eyes flickered to your hand before darting back to your face. “Dangerous, huh?”
“Mm-hmm,” you said, your lips curving into a slow smile. “It makes you underestimate your opponent.”
Your hand brushed lightly against his wrist, and for a moment, he hesitated. You used that hesitation to slide your fingers towards the book, but he caught on at the last second, pulling it back with a triumphant laugh. “Not bad,” he admitted, stepping back, his grin returning. “But not good enough.”
You let out a mock sigh, tapping your chin as if in deep thought. Then you stepped closer again, your tone dropping to a whisper. “You know Fiyero, I could make this worth your while.”
His eyebrows shot up, his grin faltering again. “Worth my while?”
You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “You did say you wanted to have fun, didn’t you? Maybe we could…negotiate.”
Fiyero blinked, clearly unsure if she was serious. “Negotiate?”
You nodded, stepping even closer until they were almost chest to chest. Your fingers brushed his other hand lightly, drawing his attention just long enough for you to dart your other hand toward the book. You grabbed it, but his grip tightened before you could pull it away.
“Oh no,” he said, his grin returning as he leaned down, his voice low. “You’re not getting it that easily.”
Your smirk widened, your fingers curling more tightly around the book. Your other hand placed on Fiyero’s chest as you leaned in, your faces now inches apart.
“Who said anything about easy?” You said, in a low teasing tone.
Fiyero’s gaze flicked to your lips for a fraction of a second, and in that moment, his grip slackened just enough. You yanked the book free, taking a quick step back with a triumphant laugh.
“Gotcha,” you said, holding the book up like a trophy.
Fiyero stared at you, stunned for a moment, before letting out a low chuckle. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
You shrugged, your smile innocent. “You’re the one who started it,”
He shook his head, a crooked grin on his face.
“Fine, you win this round. But don’t think I’m letting you off so easily next time.”
You turned, walking back to your table with the book in hand. “We’ll see about that, Prince Charming.”
As you sat down, Fiyero call after you, “Admit it, you had fun!”
You didn’t answer, but the sly smile on your face said everything he needed to know.
#fiyero tigelaar x reader#fiyero x reader#fiyero x you#fiyero tiggular#fiyero x neutral reader#fiyero x y/n#wicked fiyero
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forget my charms (dave york x f!reader) 18+
a/n finally watched equalizer 2 and he's been living in my mind rent free! i don't really know what this is tbh, it was kind of a challenge to myself to try and write a drabble because i'm notoriously bad at keeping fics short & sweet. so i'm not sure how i feel about the lack of real story here but we go anyway! enjoy & please be sure to read the warnings! summary: your new boss gives you a memorable first day. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fingering, lap sitting, power imbalance, infidelity, unprotected p in v (doggy), creampie, finger sucking, dirty talk, praise kink, tie used as a gag word count: 1.5k
You only met him this morning. It had been brief, his office just one stop of many on your guided tour the first day of your new job. Your co-worker had tapped lightly on his door, opened it a crack and told him he should come meet the new hire. Your stomach had turned when you'd heard him sigh deeply on the other side - you were already feeling out of place, more than a little like a fish out of water, and the concept of disrupting the boss on the first day wasn't appealing in the slightest.
But he'd been gracious. He'd come to the door and opened it wider, stood beneath the arch with an appraising little smile on his lips as he looked at you. It had been memorable, the way he'd taken your hand in his large palm and squeezed, peering at you with something attentive in his eyes, almost... intrigued. Welcome, he'd told you, it's lovely to meet you.
And now, only hours later, his fingers are in your pussy.
Pumping slow and deep, rhythmic and filthy as you lounge in his lap with your legs wide and your head resting languidly against the heat of his neck. He's got your skirt pulled up, one big hand spread firm over your trembling belly while he fucks you with his middle and index. The flickering blue of his computer monitor is your only source of light, showering his office in a dim glow.
You whimper and his fingers still, lodged deep inside your heat. He hushes you softly, strokes your tummy with his thumb and leans back slightly in his chair.
"Shh, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice low and husky, "Don't want the night crew to know what we're doing in here, now do we?"
No, you certainly don't. Can't even imagine what the reaction would be were anyone from the office to know you're being fingered by the boss on your first day. You bite down on your lip and lean back into his lap, look down with hooded eyes as he slowly resumes the slow plunge of his fingers. They're so thick, coated in a clear gloss of your release that glows blue in the light. He places his thumb on your clit, applies pressure, and you let out another pathetic whimper.
"Ohh, poor thing," he admonishes gently, "You want something in your mouth to help you stay quiet?" his hand comes up to brush against your face, "Hm? You need something to suck on?"
Your brain feels empty but you nod anyway, eyelashes fluttering as he wastes no time in slipping the middle and index of his left hand past the wetness of your lips. You suck immediately, closing your eyes and feeling them roll behind your lids as he fucks two of your holes at once, just taking, using.
Is this why I'm here, you can't help but think to yourself, did I only get this job so he could play with me like some kind of doll?
You can't quite believe you're even in this situation. You'd stayed late in order to make a good impression, still had some things you needed to figure out at your desk anyway. Everyone else had slowly trickled out of the office, until you'd realized all that remained was you and Mr. York. He'd smiled at you through the open blinds of his office, leaning back in his chair with his legs wide and his arms stretched behind his head. He'd brought one down when your eyes had met, crooked his finger as if to say, Come here for a minute.
You'd gotten up from your desk and entered his office, anxiety building in the pit of your stomach. You'd hoped you weren't about to be reprimanded for something you thought would impress him.
But he didn't reprimand you. He didn't mention the fact that you were staying late, didn't ask about how the job was treating you, if there was anything you needed, no. Instead, he'd looked you up and down again with that assessing, calculative stare and murmured, "Can you come sit in my lap for a little while, sweetheart?"
You suppose you could've said no. Probably should have, actually. That would have been the most logical thing to do - slam the door and quit your job, maybe even sue for harassment. Anyone else probably would have. But you'd taken one look at his crotch, seen the noticeably thick shape that bulged against his thigh, and realized he'd been sitting there watching you for who knows how long. He'd gotten that hard just from looking, assessing.
Fuck it.
"There you go," he breathes softly now, peering at you with dark and imploring eyes as he fucks your mouth and pussy, "That's a good girl, honey, I know," his brow furrows when you whine around his fingers, "I know, baby. You're doing so good."
He rocks you in his lap like you belong there, and it's impossible not to feel the way his clothed cock throbs against your ass. You want to see it so badly, want to touch it, taste it - but he doesn't give you the opportunity. Instead, he circles his thumb against your clit until you're shaking in his arms, hands gripping anything you can reach - the chair, your knee, his wrist. Your orgasm rolls through you and his fingers muffle the sound of your whines, your gasps, until your bones feel like jelly and your heart has slowed. He stills his movements again and lazily pulls all four fingers out of you, watches you breathe deeply and fall back against him with goosebumps rising on your skin.
"Get up now, baby. Bend over the desk for me," he tells you in that low voice, "Show me your pussy."
You pull yourself out of his lap on extremely shaky legs but obey his orders, inching forward a little to position yourself against his desk. You can feel his eyes on you as you reach back and pull yourself apart for him, show him where his fingers have invaded and explored, opened you up and made you drool.
"Juicy little thing," you hear him murmur, and then his belt buckle is jangling and you know what comes next. Legs still trembling, you keep holding yourself open and push yourself further down onto the desk, skirt pulled high and panties still hanging off one of your ankles.
He's filling you up in no time at all, cock plunged deep to the hilt and so much bigger than you'd anticipated. His tip kisses a spot inside of you that you're not sure anyone's ever been able to reach, and against your own volition you moan, low and long, full of pleasure and desperation.
You hear him tsk somewhere above you, "You really can't stay quiet can you?" He says it softly but it's full of condescension, like it's starting to genuinely bother him. Before you can apologize he's reaching down for something, still bottomed out completely inside of you as his arms and hands seem to do something out of sight. A few seconds later his blue polka dotted tie appears in front of your face, and then he's carefully settling the soft material between your lips, pulling back and tying it meticulously behind your head. A makeshift gag.
"Gotta learn to be quiet when I fuck you, okay?" he breathes, raspy and dark as he slowly pulls his cock from your pussy, only to feed it back to you again just as slow, "You don't want us to get in trouble, do you?"
No, sir, you want to whisper, but you can't. All you can do is nod slightly and grip the desk when he starts to fuck you in earnest, thrusting deep and hard before pulling out and doing it all over again. Your thighs quiver and shake against the cool wood, and as you lay there and let him take, you spot something out of the corner of your eye.
A framed picture of a family - his family.
You avert your eyes, turning your head slightly to see where his left hand is gripping your shoulder as he fucks you - you spot the wedding ring immediately. Christ.
But you don't stop it. You don't push him away, you don't leave. Even though you probably should. Even though the logical part of your brain is screaming at you that what's happening really shouldn't be, especially now that you know he's a married man.
You just let him use you. You let him fuck and fill you until he's gripping your hair in his fist and his cock is spasming and pulsing inside of you. You let him release his entire load inside your pussy, bare and messy. And then you let him pull you into his chair, tug the tie from your mouth and situate you back in his lap, still impaled on his cock.
Neither of you speak for a solid minute. He catches his breath while you try not to look at the photograph, to forget its existence entirely.
"The last one quit the first day," you hear him mumble, voice edged with tiredness, "But you won't, will you?" He thrusts shallowly inside of you, holds you against his chest as his cum starts to leak out and dribble down the hefty shape of his balls. "You'll let me do this, huh?"
What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?
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P*rn ☆ Chapter 6, Fear and despair
Masterlist Word count: 2 k Sylus x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.
Author's note: Ya'll ready to cry?! Me neither... Also, for anyone wondering why I don't English so good sometimes. I am Dutch and nothing is proofread <3
Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.
Mature content under the cut. No graphic content. Mention of abuse.
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'You're not quite here with me.' You look up from the cup of tea you had been absentmindedly stirring since it was put in front of you. He's right. He's always right. Well... Most times.
Your mind has been a mess. There's the whole Sylus thing, yes, that's something that takes up way too much space in your head. You keep thinking back to last Saturday, sitting on the couch with him watching the rise and fall of sexual tension. Seeing him try so hard to do small talk while pretending he wasn't looking at your lips and body like a man starved. He had kissed your forehead when he left and you leaned into it. Even thinking about it gives you butterflies.
But there's another thing on your mind. A much more menial thing. Something much easier to discuss with Zayne.
'How come I never heard you shower when you lived next door?' Zayne tilts his head, looking at you a little confused.
'That's what you've been stuck on?' You reluctantly nod. It's stupid, so damn stupid, but Zayne still answers. 'When I moved out, Rafayel was talking about a new ventilation system. Maybe it connects to yours?'
'That makes a lot of sense actually,' you groan, leaning back in your chair defeated. 'I can't believe I've been so busy thinking about that.'
'You're an interior architect; shouldn't it be logical to you?' He's got a point and a very good one at that. You also could've just asked Rafayel, but no. You'd like to avoid that man as much as possible. He always tries to get you to do work for free, without even offering to lower you rent for a month or something. No way.
You look around the coffee shop. This is you and Zayne's regular spot. The place is very big and open, but sound doesn't bounce around nor echo. There's tons of natural light and very kind yellow lights when the sun goes down. The furniture is a mix and match of secondhand stuff that's surprisingly pleasing to the eye and most chairs are comfortable. Then again, the chairs that aren't comfortable to you could be very comfortable to someone else. There are tons of plants scattered around, lots of cut vintage decor like old Matchbox cars and very old adverts on metal plates. On the floor are a few rugs that have almost worn into the floor and have major damage where people often walk. Almost looks like the rugs have crop circles.
It might not be for everyone, even Zayne used to be a little uncomfortable here at first, but it's grown on both of you. The employees are kind and helpful, the music is always good and never too loud. It's a good atmosphere.
'Anyway, how is the new neighbor?' Your cheek flush almost right away when you meet Zayne's eyes. 'What is it? Are you alright?' He leans over the table to touch your forehead, worried you might be sick.
'I'm fine, I'm fine. His name is Sylus and he's hot- A LOT, he's a lot.' Zayne chuckles at your antics while you feel your ears burning. Not exactly the information you wanted to share with Zayne. Truly, it doesn't matter all that much in the end. He's like a brother to you and he knows nearly everything about your life. A fact that you wish was still true the other way around as well but he's been too busy to tell you everything. And now that you've dropped the "Sylus is hot" bomb, he's not letting it go until you tell him everything.
For a professional, cold doctor he's surprisingly desperate for gossip.
'I'm sure he's a lot,' he says with a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips, 'you were worried he might be loud. Is that the case?'
'A bit. He's awake deep into the night, so sometimes I hear him moving around in his apartment or playing music late at night. It's nothing too bad though. Though Tara seems a bit cautious around him. Apparently, he's friends with her boyfriend.' A slight frown appears on Zayne's face. If you hadn't known him as long as you have, you wouldn't have noticed. But you do know him. 'What's that look for?'
'Tara is dating that Kieran boy, right?' You nod and he tries to soften his face. 'Hm, I don't know them very well. It's probably not who I'm thinking of.'
'Who are you thinking of?' And suddenly he looks real serious. The temperature inside is suddenly a few degrees lower and the bubble we were in feels like a soundproof chamber. 'Zayne, who are you think of?'
'I wish I could tell you, but patient confidentiality forbids me.'
“Patient confidentiality? What the hell? Is this even about Sylus?”
Zayne reaches out for my hand on the table and gently takes it in his. 'Don't worry about it too much. I'm not even sure if it's the same guy.'
'You're right,' you say, trying to smile as wide as you can while pushing the racing thoughts in your mind down.
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"She has a boyfriend? Shit." Sylus tries to quicken his pace while he walks past the coffee shop before you see him, but he's too slow. You spot him and smile at him. A big smile, one that almost makes his cheeks hurt from looking at it.
Wait... He's smiling back?
No matter, he keeps walking. But then he catches the slightest glimpse of the man sitting with her and his blood runs cold. It's like a distant memory, or more like a distant nightmare. He can only hope and pray and doctor Zayne hasn't seen him.
It's been years, but Sylus still fears the doctor might remember him. It wouldn't be too bad, the man saved his life, but he doesn't want you knowing. Not yet at least. What if he asked how his recovery is going? What if he asked if his scars healed okay? What if he asked if his situation has changed? How would he answer those questions and not revert back to that scared little boy she made him.
Because all that still feels so raw, even though it's years ago. He should've been fine by now, at least that's what he thinks. Time heals all wounds, right? Three years should be enough. More than enough.
That being said, his first doxing was her. She put his address out there as a last-ditch attempt to get him to "commit" to her. To make him obey like a fucking dog.
He isn't even sure how all of it happened back then, but it did. Maybe it was just young love. Yeah, young love at 24. No, he was just naïve and stupid. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
What he does know is that he is nearly running home. He's stuck in his own head, tears prickling in his eyes. How does this keep happening at any mention, thought, or glimpse of her? It's not normal. He should be okay.
It feels like he's picking up a fever as he unlocks the door to his apartment. He faintly hears the sound of his name but his chest is getting tight and he has to get inside. Why does this affect him so fucking much?
And suddenly he recognizes what is going on. He's having a panic attack.
He hasn't had a panic attack in the last two years. He's been fine, he should still be fine. Is it because he saw doctor Zayne again? Because he is with you? Because all he can think of when seeing doctor Zayne's face is how much pain he was in and how scared he was?
“This is not fucking normal. Breathe Sylus, breathe. You know how to breathe. You've been doing it all your fucking life. Just stop panicking!”
The voice in his head is no help. He slumps against the back of the couch in the middle of his living room, not able to make it to the bathroom to take a cold shower. Cold showers usually shock him out of it. His breathing stays rapid, his eyes looking for anything in reach that can help him but there are dark spots all over his vision.
He closes his eyes for just a moment. Just a little bit. A second, no more. He wakes up with a few slaps to his cheek. His head feels cold against the wooden floor of his apartment. When did he fall over?
'Sylus? Sylus? Look at me.' It's you. Your voice is desperate, scared, as you grab his shoulders and try to pull him upright again. He tries to help you, moving ever so slightly to a sitting position. Your hand raises up to his forehead, brushing the hair sticking to his sweaty skin away. 'Are you alright?'
'Always with you around,' Sylus says, trying to look and sound like a womanizer, but failing miserably. To you, he just looks a bit loopy. His breathing is still ragged and strange.
'Cute,' you note with a frown, 'now breathe with me.' You grab his hand and press it against your chest, just underneath your collarbone. 'Ready?' He nods. 'Breathe in.' He feels your chest rise slowly as you breathe in with him, your heard thumping under his hand in a steady, comforting rhythm.
Slowly, the whole world disappears. His eyes are laser focused on yours, ears zeroed in on the sound of your voice and your breathing. To him, you look like an angel. His guardian angel.
'Breathe out.'
Your chest falls, he breathes out. It feels like seconds have passed but by the time you let go of his hand, the sun is setting. He last checked his phone around 16:30 before he saw you at the coffee shop, so that means it's close to six, it being wintertime.
Finally lucid again, his heartbeat slowed, his breathing steady, he asks: 'Why did you follow me?'
The coldness of his questions shocks you and you answer: 'I felt like you needed someone to be there for you.'
He lets out a cold laugh, something that sounds close to disbelief but also much much closer to insecurity. A sound you hadn't expected coming from his mouth. He knows you think he's hot, he knows you are attracted to him, but he does not know you. He does not know about your youth, your struggle with panic attacks, your loneliness. But he doesn't need to know for you to be able to help him.
If only he'd believe that you only want to help.
'How do you know doctor Zayne?' There's something possessive in his tone, something you wouldn't have expected right now.
'He used to live here before you. We're friends.' He stays quiet for a while, staring at you but not quite. More like he's looking through you, disassociating. 'I'm gonna get you a glass of water.' You move to your feet, but he grabs your wrist and holds you where you are. He's suddenly back, eyes watching you with immense focus.
'Do you pity me?' The words sound like an accusation, like he's admitting he doesn't like what happened and that you "had" to see it. So much grief in those few words, a grief that goes much deeper than you can imagine.
'Pity you?'
He lets go of your wrist with an angry expression. He quickly gets up, refusing to look at you any longer. 'Never mind. I think it'd be better if you leave.'
'What? Sylus-' You try to reach out for him, but when he looks back at you there's venom in his eyes. Your hand hangs in the air, halfway reaching towards his forearm. And then you drop it. 'Okay, if that's what you want.'
He walks you to the door, his chest full of regret, embarrassment, shame. He was doing so damn well and now you've seen him like that. Like a shell, something defective, a bird with a broken wing. In the doorway you turn back to him so that he can't close the door on you. All he can see in your eyes in compassion, adoration and, strangely enough, love.
'For what it's worth, I don't pity you. My opinions and feelings about you haven't changed,' you hesitate for a second and look down at the ground, 'and I hope you'll still ask me out. I do really want to get to know you. All of you.'
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